Kamikaze
by CassSpaz
Summary: Chapter 19 up - Cora Merandez has finally managed to salvage the remains of her life and start anew. But what happens when her UBSC team is sent into Hell, and new changes happen? Sequal to Cora's Story.
1. Imagine

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Resident Evil or any of the songs that I use in this story. I own most of the original characters.  
  
Darien Marx felt like a victim in a horror movie just waiting to happen. For one thing, he was bundled up. He wore his customary undershirt with workman's shirt buttoned up. Over that he work a dark gray cardigan, a black turtleneck sweater, and a dark blue vest. If that wasn't bad enough, he wore two winter jackets as well as layers of gloves, thick rubber boots, and a wooly hat pulled over his glasses.  
  
"Is this really necessary?" he asked his superior. "It's preposterous. Uncouth! Derisory! Ludicrous! Traveling to the Antarctic to test out something that may not even work?"  
  
"Quiet, Marx." snapped the team leader. Jim Linden wasn't as puffed out like some sort of snowman as Marx was. He wore a single, long parka, one pair of leather gloves, and a pair of boots. The man's voice was tinged with a heavy North Canadian Accent but...  
  
/Does he expect us to believe that he's somehow immune to the cold?/ Marx thought scornfully. /If the man could, he would wear a flowered Hawaiian shirt and tan out here! In the Antarctic!/ Marx shivered as a particularly harsh gust of wind cut through all the layers of clothing.  
  
Linden knelt by a piece of flesh smeared across a rock, taking a sample.  
  
"Spread out. Look for any sign of a corpse or anything." Linden ordered.  
  
"This is ridiculous. Sir." another man said. Or was it a woman? Their voice and figure were blanketed in covering from the cold. It was impossible to tell anyone apart. They were all wearing black jackets, even. Only Linden was distinguishable from the others.  
  
"Umbrella's orders, Merandez!" snapped Linden. She lowered her scarf enough to allow dark skin and flashing black eyes to show her displeasure. She was so much different from her sister, Phoenix. Amelia Merandez was small, young, and weak. He doubted her ability to hold a rocket launcher due to her small size, or to even understand orders. She was only fourteen. Pathetic. Umbrella were massive, and they needed an army. And it was understandable that they would draft young soldiers. But fourteen year old girls? Pathetic.  
  
"Yes, sir." Amelia said sulkily. She put up less of an initial fight than her sister, but she would make you regret it more. Time to put her out of the way.  
  
"Merandez, watch the already collected sample."  
  
"Sir, what would harm it?" Amelia Merandez frowned, her dark eyes filling with confusion.  
  
"It took us seven weeks to drill beneath the surface of what was left of that hell hole to find a sample with enough DNA to fill that vial." Linden said, treating her like the child she was. It made Amelia furious, Linden could tell. But who cared? As long as she didn't muck up Umbrella's plan and didn't shoot herself in the foot, Linden was satisfied. Even that imbecile, Ruben Salven, who was a trainer at Umbrella, could replace the girl. Linden just wanted himself rid of her.  
  
Amelia, acting like a sulky child, went back inside the sleek, black jet. Linden turned back to his men.  
  
"Gather anything that looks like it could be a sample of the Ashfords. Anything! I don't care if it's gray, if it's hard as a rock - just gather it!"  
  
"Yes sir!" the men scattered, some going into some of the tunnels caused by recent explosions, others heading off over rocks. Linden turned, striding off casually and ignoring the wind that nearly swept him off his feet. This wasn't the mission he had in mind. He was expecting danger, excitement, B.O.Ws. Instead, he got cold, frozen wastelands and insolent children.  
  
He strode into the jet. Amelia was staring, glassy eyed, at the vial filled with salvaged samples, marked 'W - R - B. Sample'. She had shed off her winter wear, leaving her in a bright blue sweater and jeans that contrasted with her dark hair, slightly dark skin, and black eyes.  
  
"Merandez!" Linden barked. The girl jumped.  
  
"Yes ... yes sir!"  
  
"I know you had Salven for a trainer, but I didn't think you would be so dimwitted to allow everything you ever knew fly out of your head!"  
  
"Sir, I -"  
  
"Do you know how valuable that vial is? No? It's worth more than your entire family's life. Your sister worked very hard to keep you alive. Would you allow yourself to throw that work away, along with Cora Merandez and Laine Merandez 's lives?"  
  
"No." Amelia shook her head.  
  
"Good." Linden gave an unpleasant smile. "Now. You can shoot a gun?"  
  
"Yes. As soon as Cora comes back from her vacation in Europe, she's going to teach me knife work as well." Amelia beamed.  
  
"Knife work." Linden replied flatly. He needed to slap some sense into this girl. Knife work was useless against zombies and such. He sat in silence for a while, letting the ice on his boots thaw and puddle around him. Amelia was half asleep by the looks of her, one hand tight on her gun.  
  
/Even her sister would be better than her. Pathetic./  
  
Linden settled down uneasily, waiting for his soldiers to report back.  
  
*  
  
Sir Oswell Spencer looked down indulgently on his two nieces, Cassandra and Catherine. They were only two years apart, and both wanted a taste of adventure. Catherine grew tired of the labs, and Cassandra loved excitement. Of course, Madeline Spencer wouldn't be happy with that, but a talk with her brother - in - law would solve that.  
At the moment, Cassandra was flipping through a book while Catherine peered through a microscope. The two were completely different from both each other and their father, as different as night or day, or a zombie and a Tyrant.  
Cassandra was barely a success for the Spencer family. At the moment, she wore large, dark blue headphones to match her round, blue tinted sunglasses that her blue eyes peered through. Her dark hair hung down, partially obscuring the art on her black Pink Floyd t-shirt. She flipped a page of 1984, smiling. If it wasn't for the brilliant mind that lurked behind those cynical blue eyes, Spencer would have had her put down years ago.  
Catherine had black hair from her father, neat and clipped behind her back. Her lab coat was meticulous, her dark gray sweater underneath tucked into black slacks. She turned to her father, smiling, those black eyes of hers twinkling.  
  
"Father!" she said. "You'll never guess what?"  
  
"The molecules you are studying movements are becoming erratic?" Spencer asked, smiling slightly.  
  
"How did you know?" Catherine's face fell. Cassandra looked up from her tattered book.  
  
"You make a note every time a change happens." she told her sister flatly. She was two years younger, but had the arrogance for Spencer himself. "Then you ask him to make sure that you aren't messing up."  
  
"You do the same." Catherine said briskly, straightening the wire glasses that she used to prevent her eyes being strained.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm not the scientist of the family."  
  
"No, you're just the bookworm." Catherine sighed as if she was ten years older than Cassandra, instead of only two. "Cassandra, if you only learn to apply yourself..."  
  
"That's Cass to you." Cassandra turned back to her book.  
  
/These girls may not be able to handle an outbreak./ Spencer thought. Seventeen and nineteen. Of course, there were younger soldiers - a thirteen year old boy had been used experimentally, but he had died in his first mission. Since then, fifteen had been the cutoff. Special cases were allowed through - siblings, children straight out of a Ender's Game book, manipulation purposes, it depended. /They're so immature, so innocent. They'd be torn apart. They need to be hardened./  
  
"Uncle Oswell," Cassandra put her book down, peering over the top of her sunglasses at him. "When will I be able to join a special forces team? Or at least be trained."  
  
"Why?" Oswell asked sternly.  
  
"We're in the largest T-Virus research center in the world. If there's an outbreak..."  
  
"Then you will be kept safe by armed soldiers."  
  
"That's bull..." Cassandra closed her mouth at the stern look her uncle gave her. "Anyway, you cut people up. Why can't I have a little fun?"  
  
"*I* don't cut people up. I hire people to perform autopsies." Oswell thanked God that neither of these girls were heir to his fortune. That belonged to his older son. Catherine was too rigid, and Cassandra was too relaxed.  
  
/Hmm. Maybe they could do with a little discipline. Maybe then they'll know the T-Virus isn't a game or a homework assignment./  
  
"Then again." Oswell said. "I'll talk to a team leader. See what I can do."  
  
He already had the team picked out - Team Biohazard, a team placed on the shit list of Umbrella's teams. The experience would do Cassandra and Catherine good. They had so much to learn in case any harm happened to their older cousin.  
  
"Sounds good to me, Dad." Cassandra pushed her shades up her nose and turned back to her book.  
  
"Thanks." Catherine said with a smile, then fiddled with a dial on the microscope and wrote down a couple of notes, smiling. She did have a lovely smile, one that relaxed that ivory face of hers.  
  
Oswell planned out the meeting with Scythe in his head. The young man was so predictable. This would be too easy.  
  
*  
  
Cora Merandez still wasn't used to the code name that she used. Phoenix. Used to symbolise a new life under Umbrella, a new life that she had earned. She had fought, and fought, and fought, and lost. She was an Umbrella soldier now, in her mind.  
  
"Cora, you okay?" Ada Dodge, a.k.a. Pandora put a hand on the other female's hand. The two were the only females in Team Biohazard, and hence they were friends, despite their differences.  
  
"Yeah, Ada." she said with a smile. "But that's Ms. Phoenix to you."  
  
"Right, Ms. Phoenix."  
  
"Very well, Ms. Pandora." Cora said, and the two began to giggle together. The jet launched off into the air. Cora noticed that Hojo was gripping onto the armrests of his airplane chair tightly, his knuckles white. The tactics expert was looking like he wished his feet were on solid ground.  
  
"Anthony?" Cora asked. He jumped.  
  
"Oh. Cora. Phoenix." He was an easy going man, but at the moment he looked like he wanted someone to come put him out of his misery. "Hi." He answered the unasked question. "I'm afraid yeah. But we'll be there in a couple of hours. So ..." he shrugged. Cora turned her attention away from him. She had spent too long in Europe, she would be unused to the changes back home. 


	2. I'm Waking Up To Us

Hojo's face was now a violent green, and Tweek and Foxx seemed to be having a bet on how long he would last before puking.  
  
"He can't last more than a minute." said a scornful Foxx.  
  
"Ah, but you put too much faith in him. He'll last fifteen more seconds."  
  
Scythe and Reeve were conversing softly up ahead, and Cora only caught strains of whispers.  
  
"So, bro, you think ..."  
  
"No, that's stupid ..."  
  
Cora sighed and leaned back into her lovely chair. Hojo bolted past her, making violent gagging sounds.  
  
"Thirty two seconds!" Tweek said, beaming.  
  
"Lucky." Foxx muttered. The only noise beyond the soft talk of Reeve and Scythe was the clicking of Ada's laptop.  
  
"What're you up to?" Cora asked softly.  
  
"Just checking out some stuff on Umbrella." Pandora replied. "Seeing what happened to Delta Team."  
  
"Well, they were all slaughtered, weren't they?"  
  
"Yeah, so I'm seeing who's the new team leader and such."  
  
"You nerd." Cora said teasingly.  
  
"Hey, this stuff might come in handy some day." Ada grinned, then the smile on her face disappeared. "Uh, Cora..."  
  
"I think you might be interested in this." She pushed the laptop at Cora and Cora read off the screen, frowning.  
  
Umbrella UBCS Delta Team.  
  
Team Leader: Linden. Others: Marx, Janison, Smith, Black, Merandez  
"Merandez?" Cora asked, confusion coming after her face. "But I'm not on Delta Team."  
  
"Well yes, but you're listed as 'C. Merandez. So it's a different Merandez who's on Delta Team."  
  
"It can't be. Mom's too old, and Amelia is only fourteen." Cora shook her head, but worry was still coming onto her face. "It can't be."  
  
"I'm sure it was just a mistake." Ada said, but she didn't sound like she meant it.  
  
The sky flew on through the sky, carrying a very worried UBCS team.  
  
*  
  
Cold.  
  
The man shivered, clutching his blanket tight around him. The bed was soft on his back, the blankets high, but he was so cold. He quickly figured out why - he wasn't wearing any clothes.  
  
/The G-Virus./  
  
He sat up, looking around wildly. Sandy brown hair fell in his eyes. Where was it?  
  
"It's mine!" he snarled at no one. "Get away from it!"  
  
/Who am I? ... I'm ... William Birkin. Yes, I know that. William Birkin/  
  
He stood up weakly, wrapping the blanket around him like a cloak. He shivered again.  
  
/Violet? Where are you? Sherry? Annette?/  
  
He made his way to the wardrobe, a simple piece. He smiled. Who needed vines and flowers carved into their furniture? Who cared? Furniture was an unnecessary expedenture.  
He looked inside for the G-Virus. It was not there. So he dressed simply. A black button up shirt, black slacks, and a labcoat.  
  
/Who bought these clothes? Albert?/ Birkin thought irritably. He prefered white. He wondered where Albert was. Had he gone through with this mad plan to double-cross Umbrella?  
For some reason, the thought bought a touch of irony and a painful, blurred memory. A man in a gas mask... William strained. The memory was gone, but he knew it had something to do with his G-Virus. A man in a gask mask ... and his G-Virus.  
He dropped the matter. It was unimportant. There was a rap ont he door.  
  
"Wait!" William called. "I'm not decent!" He waited until he had gotten his shoes on and wriggled into his labcoat. "All right." he said, feeling much more confident now that his trusty labcoat was on and he knew who he was, if not where Violet or Annette or Sherry were. "Come on in."  
  
The door swung open and a young woman came in. If he recognized her, it was only a vague memory from a press conference so long ago. If it was the same woman.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Birkin." she said respectfully, in a tone that belied her scruffy appearance.  
  
"Who the blazes are you?" he asked.  
  
"I'm Cassandra Spencer." she rose an eyebrow. "I've come to make sure that the shots that Catherine gave you aren't malfucntioning."  
  
"Shots?!" William's eyes narrowed. "Have you infected me?"  
  
"No. We bought you back from the dead, Mr. Birkin. Now, what is your full name?" She paused at the look on his face. "It's procedure. We had to do this with the other two patients as well."  
  
"William Raymond Birkin."  
  
"Wife?"  
  
"Annette."  
  
"Daughter?"  
  
"Sherry."  
  
"First thought?"  
  
"G-Virus." William admitted sulkily. "Do you know where it is?"  
  
"No." Cassandra said with a small smile. It was the type of look that shouted 'LIE!' from a mile off. Birkin narrowed his eyes even further , until they were only slits of pale blue.  
  
"Are you sure of that, Miss Spencer?" She was wearing a shirt with a red and white pill on it. 'TOOL' proclaimed the pill. How was she related to Oswell? Why did he allow such shennadagins.  
  
"Positive." she said crisply. "Do you have any more questions?"  
  
"Yes. Who are the other two patients?"  
  
"Um..." Cassandra hesitated. "I don't know if that's authorized for me to say it..."  
  
"Tell me!" demanded Birkin. Cassandra gave a slow nod.  
  
"Alexia and Alfred Ashford."  
  
Birkin's face turned a deep shade of pumice, and Cassandra hurried out the door before he could protest more.  
  
*  
  
Alexia woke up with a hand entwined in her own.  
  
"Dearest Alexia!" Alfred said in his silky voice. "You are awake?"  
  
"Alfred?" she asked crisply, then sat up. A slice of pain went through her head, and she fell back with a cry.  
  
"Alexia!" Alfred said, then noticed with a blush that the blankets had fallen back and the twins were both bare. Alexia didn't turn red, but merely stood again, ignoring the pain in her limbs and the dull ache in your head. "Sit down, Alexia. I will fetch your clothing."  
  
"You are a good worker ant, Alfred." Alexia murmered. "A good worker ant." She was tired and the pain was great. No wonder she was slipping so far as to compliment her bumbling twin. When all he was doing was bringing her clothes! A ten year old could do as much! She scowled to herself.  
  
"Alexia, please don't be displeased." begged Alfred as he laid down a black silk dress and black slippers.  
  
"Fool! I am not dressing for a funeral!" Alexia said.  
  
"I'm sorry, dear Alexia." Alfred said. "But black is all they had."  
  
"No weapons?" Alexia asked.  
  
"No, but you have your T-Veronica virus." Alfred said confidently. "You can defend us both."  
  
/Maybe he is smarter than I give him credit for./ Alexia thought reluctantly as she dressed in he black gown, complete with a black scarf and black shoes. /But this pain ... Perhaps I am still feeling the effects of the Linear Launcher? Perhaps I should rest some more./  
  
She sat down, her head spinning and her muscles aching. Alfred was wringing his hands.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked, just as the door swung open. A young professional looking woman with the gleam of intelligence in her eye and a clipboard in her hand walked in.  
  
"Ms. Ashford? Mr. Ashford?"  
  
"That's Doctor Ashford!" shouted an infuriated Alfred. The young scientist didn't seem to mind.  
  
"I just have to ask you a few questions for procedure."  
  
"What's your name, girl?" Alexia asked. She rose a slim, white hand to silence her furiously spluttering twin. To Alexia's mild astonishment (which she did not show on her face), the girl looked at her as if she was just an ant. A worker ant!  
  
"Catherine Spencer." she replied calmly. "Now ... can I ask you the questions, please?"  
  
Alexia sat down on her narrow cot as though it was a throne and gave a regal nod. Alfred narrowed his eyes at Catherine as if he was about to cut her down at a moment's notice. A fool, in some ways. But a very useful fool. And Alexia did feel a slight affection for him.  
  
So the girl began to ask questions. Their names? Alexia had felt furious at that, but she had kept her face clear. If they were treating her like a dunce, then she could bear it. Their first thought? Alfred said 'Alexia', Alexia had pondered upon where she was. Their father? They answered in unison - the useless Alexander Ashford, disgrace to the Ashford family.  
Catherine smiled, took her notes, and then wished them adieu.  
  
"She was disrespectful to you, dearest Alexia." Alfred said sharply. Alexia waved off the concern. She would deal with them in due time. In due time. 


	3. Dazed and Confused

"The memories of a man in his old age, are the deeds of a man in his prime." Cassandra sang. The halls in this part of the facility were quiet except for the screams of the dying. It made an odd backround noise to the upbeat song. "You shuffle in the gloom if the sick room, and talk to yourself until you die."  
  
"Cassandra." Catherine said, a file in her hand.  
  
"Life is a short warm moment, and death is a long cold rest. You get your chance to try, in the twinkling of an eye, eighty years with luck or even less." She strummed all the more violently, affecting deafness to her older sister.  
  
"Cassandra!"  
  
Cassandra gave a vicious slash at the guitar, snapping a string on her guitar.  
  
"What do you want?!"  
  
"This lab report needs to be double checked." she flopped it down on the desk of her younger sister. Cass's face turned a slight pink. "Can you do it for me?"  
  
"There's more to life than the labs, Cathy!" snapped Cass. "Like, what I was doing now? That's called a habit. We people have them to pass the time in other ways than peering into microscopes."  
  
"For you, maybe. I happen to take my work seriously."  
  
"Grow up."  
  
"I am already grown up!"  
  
"You're like a child playing scientist." Cassandra stood, carefully placing her guitar down.  
  
"Oh God!" someone shrieked from down the hall. Neither of them cared. The man was restrained, although someone really should have knocked him out. What a shame. Catherine had turned pink, then scowled.  
  
"Fine. I'll look over the lab report myself. At least I am not going to the gun range every day."  
  
"Who told you I was doing that?" Cassandra demanded. She was, but Uncle Oswell would be furious when he heard the news. He didn't think it was 'ladylike' for Cassandra or Catherine to be on the shooting range. Too many men, too much danger. How her uncle expected her to cope in a real mission, Cassandra did not know.  
  
"Amelia Merandez told me." sniffed Catherine. "You get back to your little illusion, then." and she stormed off. Cassandra scowled after her sister.  
  
*  
  
Ruben Salven strode down the hill. Lydia was in the apartment, but his mind was on other matters - of the lady variety. Spotting an arrogent looking blond clad in black with an absent look in her eyes of thought with a brother, he smiled. His first mistake was mistaking the look of thought for one of stupidity.  
  
"Aah, the hunt begins." he rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'd do the stupid out of her." And with that, he pranced over.  
  
"No, Afred," Alexia was sneering, holding a styrofoam cup at arms length, "I said I wanted _early grey_". She gave a despondant little sniff and turned away petulantly, rolling her eyes. Things were going from bad to worse for the Ashford name, she reflected as she arched a golden eyebrow at the genetically inferior being who appeared to be frolicing towards her.  
  
Salven smoothed back his hair, but on the smile that the girl in the mailroom thought was 'cute', and threw out a hand to lean against a wall before he realized that one wasn't there. He cleared his throat instead.  
  
"Hello!" he said brightly. "I'm Ruben Salven." he winked and grinned at her, then glanced at her brother, wearing a jaunty black coat with lace at the edges. "Would you mind going and... doing whatever it is poofs do while I have a little chat with your sister?"  
  
Alfred looked like he was about to strangle himself with all of the insults struggling to come out of his mouth. His eyes blazed like fury, and his face turned beet red.  
  
"Do... not ... disrespect... Alexia ... like that!" he finally managed to choke. Salven gave him a blank stare, then turned his attentions back to Alexia.  
  
The statuesque blonde tilted her chin up haughtily at Salven, her ruby lips curving upwards into a sneer. For a moment it appeared that she was lost for words, but this soon subsided into a derisive laugh. "I don't think you understand, cretin," she sneered, "*I* am Alexia Ashford!" she tossed her hair over her shoulder proudly and waited for the simian to cower before her.  
  
"Cretin?" Ruben smiled. "Oh, you must have read a book or something! Alexia? That's a pretty name. And you don't have to be so proud about little old me trying to um... suitor you."  
  
At this, Alfred's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, he reached for a sniper rifle that wasn't there and tried to throw insults at this man. All that came out was:  
  
"You... don't... Alexia... superior... Ashford... failure... intellectually... inferior... die!"  
  
Alexia paused for a moment and frowned. This wasn't right, she reflected. Why was this neanderthal treating her like...an ordinary woman. She shuddered at the mere thought, and turned to her brother with an icy glare, before turning her wrath on Salven,  
  
"How dare you?" she exclaimed, before bringing the back of her hand sharply across Salven's face, "Alfred! Dispose of this defective soldier ant at once!"  
  
Salven stepped back, rubbing the side of his face, but still grinning. "So, playing hard to get?" He was interrupted by Alfred lunging at him, managing to get a punch or two in before Salven simply snaked out from underneath him, a gun in his hand. "Listen, buddy - your sister's grown up." He said the words in a lewd way - as usual. "So how about you go and acquaint yourself with Roger? You two would be the perfect match."  
  
Alfred let out a hiss of vexation, then glanced at Alexia as though pleading for help. Alexia sighed. Her brother was slightly above average, but still a pathetic, genetically inferior fool.  
  
She slid a a nail gently against her wrist, causing blood to spurt out gently. It trickled over her wrist, hitting the floor in flashes of flames. The imbecile stared.  
  
"Your blood..." he said weakly, ashen faced and disbelieving. Perfect. Alexia gave a nasty smile, and the man backed off.  
  
"Sorry." he said, trying to smile. "But uh... I'm not into circus freak chicks." And with that, he bolted. *  
The sleek black jet landed on the Paris runway, and Team Biohazard filed out neatly. They all headed their seperate ways - Tweek and Foxx off into the city, Reeve and Ada were going to check out a computer shop, leaving Hojo, Scythe, and Cora to head up to the facility. To Cora's surprise, there was a old looking man, with a light of authority in his eyes and a cold face. His face was pale from hard work, but his hair was black and his eyes dark brown.  
  
"Sir!" Scythe gave a sharp salute.  
  
Hojo and Cora exchanged confused looks. His clothes were meticulous, although flecks of ink splattered across his fingers. He didn't have the look of an officer, more like a clerk.  
  
/Stop it. You're getting paranoid. You don't need to pyschoanalyze everything around you./  
  
"Sir!" she repeated Scythe's action, Hojo only a heartbeat behind her. The man smiled.  
  
"At ease, Scythe, Phoenix, Hojo."  
  
The three relaxed. The man smiled - he wore no identifying tag. Then again, no graduated officers did and very few scientists even bothered.  
  
"Phoenix, I trust that the decision to bring your sister into Delta Team isn't bothering you?" the man asked.  
  
"WHAT?!" Cora stared. "Amelia ... on ... Delta Team?"  
  
"Oh. She speaks like you already know it and you've already taught her all you know. No matter." Oswell waved off the concerns of the furious agent. "You'll be taking on two rookies, Scythe. A medic and a B.O.W. expert."  
  
"Who?" Scythe's face was smooth and his voice was level, but he had an air of irritation. Cora didn't blame him. She had been pathetic herself as a rookie, and Hojo was still struggling with trying to keep his easy going air in missions.  
  
"Catherine and Cassandra Spencer."  
  
"You want me to babysit your nieces, Oswell?" Scythe asked softly.  
  
/Oswell? Oh shit, this is *the* Spencer./  
  
"Yes. And if you value your life, you will."  
  
"Phoenix." Scythe said. Cora nodded.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm putting you and Hojo in charge of them. You better not screw up."  
  
"But Scythe! I have to look after my sister /and/ look after them?"  
  
"You'll manage."  
  
Spencer looked upon this with a dry amusement that made Cora want to hurt him.  
  
"Yes, Phoenix. Please do try. I think it would be a growing expierience for all of Team Biohazard."  
  
"Yes ... sir." Cora finally muttered, wilting under the stares from Scythe and Spencer combined. "I'll try to get on with your niece. But ... will you let my sister leave Delta Team?"  
  
"Now, Phoenix! I didn't make any promises!" chuckled Oswell Spencer.  
  
"Please, sir." insisted Cora.  
  
"I'll speak to Linden later." Spencer finally said.  
  
"Thank you, sir! Thank you!" Cora said. Scythe scowled, waiting until Spencer had nodded and exhanged a little more small talk before turning on Cora.  
  
"Well, you definately came off the worse in that."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you pulled your sister into negotiations. If a hand is laid on one of the Spencer girls..." Scythe exhaled.  
  
"Then what?" Cora demanded.  
  
"Then Amelia won't be on any UBCS team. She'll be dead."  
  
/Oh, shit./ Cora cursed in her head. /What have I done?/ she crammed her hands into her pockets. /Stepped in dog shit, that's what./ * 


	4. Go With The Flow

Cora had decided to accquaint herself with Cassandra if she was to be babysitting her on missions. So the two were sitting in a cozy Thai resturant at a booth near a window. Cora was chewing on a chilli pepper absent mindedly.  
  
"So..." she said around a mouthful of the spicy food. Her younger companion merely picked at her rice, humming underneath her breath.  
  
"Catherine said that she was with that other young man." Cassandra finally said. "You know."  
  
"Hojo?"  
  
"That's the one." Cassandra finally took a bite of her food, and smiled. "Hey, this isn't that spicy ..." she trailed off, then drained her fruit juice.  
  
"So, why do you want to join Team Biohazard?"  
  
"I'm *tired* of treating this as if it was a lesson in class. We're there to help people, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess we are."  
  
"So I want to know what happens when I screw up. I don't want to think that I can do whatever the hell I want in the lab, or that I even have to be in the lab in order to help people."  
  
"That's really very noble."  
  
"Not really." Cassandra shook her head. "More like smart."  
  
"How do you figure?"  
  
"*Noble* is doing shit like taking a bullet or yelling at a lion "EAT ME OKAY?!" She took another bite, grimacing. "Smart is making sure that you don't screw up, covering your tracks, that sorta stuff."  
  
"Oh." Cora found herself wondering what sort of childhood this woman had had. "Weren't you ... disturbed when you found out?"  
  
"About what?" Cassandra asked before biting into a bun.  
  
"The zombies. The expieriments."  
"Oh those? That's nothing." Cassandra waved a hand. "I mean, look at it this way Phoenix." She held up the bun with the bite in it. "This is Joe Below Average. He's not too bright, if he has a family they don't make much and they're struggling along."  
  
"Right."  
  
"So, we talk to him. We go, 'excuse me Mr. Smith, but we have a job offer for you.' This is mana from heaven for this guy, so he most likely accepts."  
  
She was so cold hearted, so oblivious to the pain she had caused. In fact, she began to laugh out loud.  
  
"I remember once this one guy dragged along six police officers. He thought we were scamming him, trying to get his credit card number. So he and the officers come in here. It was really awkward, we had the gurney and the syringes ready and everything."  
  
"So what did you do?" Cora asked.  
  
/Oh God, I'm feeling interested. I shouldn't be. It's a stupid, stupid story. Just because I'm a soldier doesn't mean that I'm as stupid as the scientists. They think that humans are just ... just something that you can put on the budget between 'scapels' and 'latex gloves'.  
  
"So we say to the police officers that we were just doing a drug test. A drug test! And they believed us! So we ask them to wait in the next room, and we'll give them a snack for their troubles."  
  
"Mm." Cora made a neutral sound.  
  
"But we really put sedatives in the coffee. I think one of the police officers actually had the potential to become a Tyrant, but I had to go and work on a couple of Hunters so I didn't get to see the mutation."  
  
Cora laughed politely.  
  
"You often kill people?"  
  
"It's not *killing* them." Cass said pointedly. "It's *helping* them. They're doing so much better work for science then they could ever do in their job as ... as a tax accountant or whatever."  
  
/I'm eating dinner with a psychopath./ Cora thought sadly. /And th sad part is, I think I'm starting to like her./ *  
  
The tall man sighed, swiping a hand hurridly though brown hair. He was blocky, and the scowl on his face made passer bys suddenly fascinated with the side walk beneath their feet. His sister was less intimidating, but just as dangerous. She was a pretty girl, with a slender frame and a strong presence.  
  
"What sort of ice cream do you want, Chris?" she asked.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Ice cream. You know... the cold, creamy stuff that people eat on hot days?"  
  
"Oh, shut up, Claire. I was just thinking." Chris ruffled his sister's hair. "Vanilla."  
  
"I was thinking that you'd want something like strawberry with chopped nuts - you're the adventurous type."  
  
"Actually, that sounds pretty good." Chris gave his sister a fiver. "Go pay."  
  
He flopped down at a plastic table underneath a wide red and white umbrella. He hated eating here, just because of those umbrellas.  
  
/Claire is right. You are being stupid about this. Move on with your life already!/  
  
He scowled as his sister came back with two paper containors. She rose an eyebrow.  
  
"Sulking?" she asked.  
  
"No. Just thinking."  
  
"I could tell by the smoke coming out of your ears." she said jokingly.  
  
"It's good camoflague from Umbrella."  
  
"And an environmental hazard."  
  
They both half-heartedly laughed and dug into their ice cream. Claire was homesick for America - Europe was a lovely place, but the all American Redfields felt out of place among the different culture of Europe. And they were pretty soon it would get worse once they were in Paris.  
That was the plan for the two - meet up with the others in Paris. Chris sighed and stabbed a scoop of ice cream moodily. If the others were in Paris. They had to move ahead of Umbrella.  
  
"Claire?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm sure we'll find Steve some day."  
  
"Thanks." Claire gave a smile that seemed almost like the four year old's smile from so long ago, after she had managed to get into the cookie jar on the highest shelf. "And we will find the others. I know we will."  
  
Chris smiled at his sister. They could do this, they just had to keep out from Umbrella's eye.  
  
*  
  
"Take me home right now, you ruffian!"  
  
"But, Miss Spencer!" Hojo was backed up against the wall. "I didn't do anything!"  
  
Catherine tossed her black curls over her shoulder and glared. Hojo topped her by a few inches, and he could easily kill her if he wanted, but he flinched at her glare.  
  
"So you just had to take my arm to escort me into the resturant?"  
  
"Uh..." Hojo seemed flustered. He ran a hand through his short reddish hair. "I'm ... sorry?"  
  
Catherine sniffed.  
  
"Let's get this little thing over with then?'  
  
"Um, right, Miss Spencer." Hojo said, holding the door open for her. She sniffed again, but before long she was calmly slicing her lamb and eyeing Hojo as though she had never seen anything quite like him before and she was considering whether she liked it or not.  
  
/Make conversation!/  
  
"So." he said. "Did you see the hockey game last night?"  
  
"I don't watch sports." Catherine said haughtily.  
  
/Shit./  
  
"Well, it's a lovely night."  
  
"It is, I suppose."  
  
/I should have chosen Cassandra to escort. Just concentrate and try not to make a fool of yourself./  
  
"I wish I was in the labs."  
  
"What's so great about the labs? Just wait until you try field work." Hojo enthusiastically sliced at his steak. "You never know what's gonna happen until BAM a monster comes around the corner."  
  
"So unpredictable. So unreliable." she gave a smile, and a light of passion came into her eyes. "Not like the labs. Everything is just right, everything is so precise. Move something and you have the desired effect. Not like messy field work."  
  
"So why are you joining Team Biohazard?"  
  
"It'll be fascinating to do some hands on work. And since *I* am the Team Medic, I'll be able to see how infection works. I never have before. I mean, direct infections through a needle are so much different than the type that Raccoon civilians went through. A drop of blood transfered can take days to infect the system." Her eyes shone.  
  
"Wow." Hojo said.  
  
"And I want to know how long it takes and whether it can be stopped. Oh, we have antidotes, sure, but they break down. They don't always work. We lose so many people, but what if we could slow or speed up the virus?"  
  
"I don't know any of this, I'm just a tactics expert." Hojo shook his head and took a piece of garlic bread.  
  
The euphoria had not faded from Catherine's face.  
  
"You have to learn about the virus." she insisted. "It's fascinating.  
  
"It's a date." Hojo said with a grin, then the grin faded at the look on Catherine's face. "Or, um, okay then." 


	5. Communication Breakdown

William Birkin's pale hand shook as he wrapped it around the glass. He abhorred liquor of all sorts, but he thought he needed it after *that* questioning period. It had started out innocently enough, with Gregory White asking him a few questions. When Birkin mentioned the man in the gas mask that he remembered foggily, White had looked furious and afraid both. Then he had drilled him, questioning him again and again and again about his past, about what he remembered.  
  
/What is he hiding?/  
  
Birkin began to choke and splutter on the brandy on the glass, spitting most of it out. The glass shattered. Birkin shook his head, then decided to get something to eat. They had not allowed him anything during that *interrogation*, and his stomach was rumbling.  
  
He strode out of the hall, not looking forward to the experience but with nothing better to do - and bumped into Alexia Ashford. He cried out, nearly losing his balance. She gave him an icy glance.  
  
"Oh, hello, William." she said, cool as a queen. He turned red in the face.  
  
"Alexia." he said, trying to sound as cool and condescending as the woman in front of him. "Alfred."  
  
"I heard that your little G-Virus was a success..." Alexia suddenly paused, and turned her head to yawn daintily into her hand.  
  
/Little G-Virus? My scientific achievements far outweigh the insignificant endeavours of that sorry excuse for a virologist! Ant colonies - how asinine./  
  
"And how did your virus come along, Alexia? Of course, I was under the assumption that you were dead, so I could never really check in. Then again, there *were* rumours that you were alive."  
  
"I was sleeping." Alexia said frostily. "Waiting for the *true* power of the T-Veronica virus to awaken within me."  
  
"That's fatuous!" spluttered Birkin. "Waiting for years just so you can ... what, burrow into the ground?"  
  
"You are not deserving to see the effects of the T-Veronica!"  
  
"You're quixotic, Alexia!"  
  
"You're an insolent gomeril!"  
  
"At least I didn't stagnate around for fifteen years for some nugatory project!"  
  
"Silence, you knave!"  
  
"I don't need to listen to you, you slack spined excuse for a scientist!"  
  
"You resentful, emulous urchin!"  
  
"Resentful?! Resentful of what, that lap-dog?!" Birkin pointed at Alfred, his hand quivering with rage. Alfred had lost the thread of the conversation sometime after his dearest Alexia had called that jealous fool Birkin an 'insolent gomeril', but he got the gist there.  
  
"Your G-Virus is pathetic, as you are!" Alfred snarled. There was suddenly footsteps and laughter coming around the corner, and the three Umbrella scientists all turned to see who *dared* interrupt them.  
  
Cassandra Spencer and Cora 'Phoenix' Merandez froze as three pairs of icy blue eyes latched onto them. The Ashfords and Birkin did not know their names, only that they had been interupted by two inferior specimens.  
  
"What the blazes are you doing, interrupting your superiors?!" Birkin, never missing a beat, spun on his heel to face these interlopers.  
  
"We're ... heading to the cafeteria." the first girl said blankly. She was familiar to Birkin - she wore a pair of blue tinted shades, jeans, and a tight fitting t-shirt with the words 'I am a tourist. I do not live here. Thank God.' emblazoned across the front. Alfred stared at her contemptulously. There was no woman close to Alexia, but at least most of them tried to look respectable. She was scruffy, she was large nosed, and she was long limbed like a spider.  
  
"Just leave it. Scientists get antsy when they're angry." the second girl whispered. Alexia was eyeing her cooly with some interest. She wore a black turtle neck sweater with the Umbrella logo stitched in over the left breast, and black pants that flared at the ends to compliment black combat boots. She was pretty, with sundarkened skin, gray eyes, and brown hair pulled back into a braid. But there was a hardness to her that surprised Alexia marginally, a sort of hunted, wary, pained look to her. It was something akin to the men who had served her when she was young, those who were truly dedicated to little Alexia Ashford - but more refined, and stronger. No matter. Just a worker ant in the wrong place at the wrong time. If she did have more sense than the other girl.  
  
"No, I didn't do anything wrong." the first girl looked angry. "I am Cassandra Spencer, not riff raff."  
  
"Oh *God*, please don't get all rich and snooty." the second girl pleaded.  
  
"Shush, Phoenix."  
  
Birkin nodded to himself as though in satisfaction, and Alfred's jaw dropped open. Alexia just smiled. A Spencer, and as arrogent as Oswell himself.  
  
"Cassandra." Alexia moved forward. "You are Oswell's daughter?"  
  
"Niece."  
  
"Look, lady." Phoenix moved between Alexia and her prey like a wolf. "We're sorry if we interrupted your chat, but -" she suddenly gasped as Alexia moved forward swifly, seizing her chin in a hand and tilting her head up to look at the taller woman's face.  
  
"Lady?" Alexia asked softly. Alfred gave an indignant nod. Birkin had a mingled look of condensation and fascinating on his face.  
  
"She wouldn't have that strength without the T-Veronica." Birkin muttered beneath his breath.  
  
"What the hell!" Phoenix gasped, gripping Alexia's wrist tightly. "Look, I'm sorry about injuring your touchy scientist pride but will you /let me go/?"  
  
/She's smart/ Alexia thought impassively, staring down at the struggling girl. /Smart. Trained as a soldier, so probably not out of shape like the samples Umbrella are asking me to work on. Self assured. I could use a test subject like her./  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Spencer snapped, throwing her long brown hair over her shoulder. "Let my friend go now, or I'll have you strapped to an operating table so fast..."  
  
"You don't even know who that is." Birkin said, forming a temporary alliance with the Ashfords in the face of such defiance from underlings.  
  
Phoenix let out a cry of pain as Alexia tightened her grip on the girl's jaw, the inspective look still in her cold blue eyes.  
  
/Maybe it's time that I tried to make a few modifications to the T- Veronica. Worker ants may be worker ants, but if I were to have a few body guards or something perhaps? It would be a delegation suitable for an Ashford./  
  
"I'm sorry!" the two words poured out of the girl's mouth in a shuddering whimper. "Let go of me!"  
  
"You've shown the girl." Birkin was glaring at Alexia. "Do not carry on with such foolishness."  
  
/Yes, I believe I can find much use for UBCS Agents in the future. Better than combat data. Others can be found for that./  
  
"Let go of her, Alexia!" Birkin said indignantly.  
  
"Release my friend, you crazy scientist, or you'll be *really* pissed that your mother ever kissed your father."  
  
Alfred merely gazed on with awestruck eyes. He had no doubt that some grand plan was formulating from behind those calculating blue eyes. Maybe, if he was lucky, his sister would allow him to know of these plans. But for now, he would wait patiently.  
  
"What is your name, *Phoenix*?" Alexia finally spoke.  
  
"Cora Merandez." the girl had defiance and confusion in her eyes. No pain. No fear. The idea had merit.  
  
"And do you know who I am."  
  
"A scientist?"  
  
"Yes and no." Alexia said. "I am Alexia Ashford."  
  
Recognition dawned on Merandez's face, and finally fear. It was good to have defiance to a regular scientist, but better for a worker ant to recognize her place under the Queen. Merandez tore away from Alexia, shallow gashes appearing from where Alexia had dug her nails in.  
  
"You're dead!" Merandez gasped.  
  
This was not what Alexia wanted. Fear of her, not fear of her being a ghost.  
"I *was* dead." corrected Alexia. "Was."  
  
"You died in Antartica." Cassandra said angrily.  
  
"She died before that." Birkin corrected. "When she was a child."  
  
"That can't be." The Spencer girl started to frown. "She ... was spotted sometimes. By workers. Of course, she was furious whenever it happened, but that only caused the rumour to spread faster."  
  
Alfred was starting to look very uncomfortable and Alexia frustrated.  
  
"Alfred." she said. "Explain this mockery of my name to these cretins and I can be on my way."  
  
"There's nothing to explain, Alexia dear." Alfred's voice was strangled, his face a dark red. He was wringing his hands."  
  
"EXPLAIN." roared Alexia, losing her cold, icy calm. It was back quickly, and she was serene again.  
  
"I was so lonely, Alexia..." whimpered Alfred. "So alone."  
  
Alexia did not say another word, but merely seized Alfred by the wrist and stormed away. William Birkin turned to Cassandra Spencer - who was perhaps close to his rank, perhaps even intelligent enough to carry on a decent conversation with.  
  
"Ignore the Ashfords." he said. "They are two puffed up fools who take what they want and have no realization for the properties of science!" Birkin exhaled.  
  
"It's cool," Cassandra waved a hand in an unconcerned gesture. "I had gathered as much."  
  
"Oh, trust me. I'll be ignoring them in future." The UBSC agent wiped away blood from the gashes on her face. Birkin nodded and went to his original course of action. One question bothered him, why had Alexia's insult about his G-Virus being a 'success' wriggled so in the back of his head?  
  
He would find out eventually. He was a man of science, and he could counter whatever Umbrella had done. White had let it slip that it had been the Spencer nieces who had worked on his mind, reconstructing it, and he could out-do them any day. He just needed to figure out what was wrong with the reconstruction. If there was anything wrong. If he was not caught. He had to be careful. 


	6. A Trail For the Devil To Erase

A/N: Thanks again to Captain for betaing, Ramen for reading, Shak for reviewing the original, and the regulars. You guys rawk.  
  
Alanna Turnbull sighed to herself as she peered into the microscope. With the two Spencer girls taking off from the labs, she was left to shoulder most of the workload. And no matter how indignant Gabriel got, she was stuck with it.  
  
"What gives them the right?" she asked the samples that she was peering through. "To do something so stupid and to leave *me* with all the work?!"  
  
The specimen did not answer her. Irritably, she took the slide out from underneath the microscope and mixed it in with the feed for the rabbits in the cage, pausing to scribble a note on a paper.  
  
"Is there a problem, Miss Turnbull?" Alanna's superior, a dark skinned man clad in extravagant clothes that clashed with the strictness of the labs.  
  
"No."  
  
"It seems that way." he leaned back, frowning at her. She continued to scowl.  
  
"I'm taking my lunch break." She told him, handing him her lab coat and stalking out. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her dark purple vest, muttering beneath her breath, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around.  
  
A man with immaculate blond hair, cold blue eyes, and a smile was on his face.  
  
"You know a Gabriel Turnbull?"  
  
"Yes. He is my brother."  
  
He gave a nod, and then something crashed down on the back of her head. For a moment, she staggered.  
  
"What...?" she managed to say.  
  
"Umbrella will be ours again, sister!" The blond man said merrily. "First Paris, then America, then the world!" Then the world faded to black, and Alanna went limp. *  
Hojo wondered whether he should have bought flowers. Women liked flowers. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and jumped three feet in the air.  
  
"Catherine!" he gasped.  
  
Scythe raised an eyebrow at the jumpy recruit, who turned red.  
  
"Uh... sir! I wasn't expecting you here!"  
  
"And I wasn't expecting you in the labs, either, Hojo. I have orders for you. I need you to sort through the files from missions and dispose of those that aren't relevant anymore."  
  
"But, sir!"  
  
They were interrupted by the door swinging open and hitting the wall with a 'thud' and Catherine Spencer, looking pale and harassed as always, appearing in the doorway.  
  
"You've come to learn about the virus?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Um, yes." Hojo said. Scythe was staring at him, then finally he hissed:  
  
"Real romantic date, Hojo. A corpse in a lab."  
  
"Ssh!" Hojo shushed.  
  
"Wait until the guys hear about this." and then Scythe was gone.  
  
"If you're just here to learn about the virus, why are you wearing cologne?"  
  
"I wanted to smell nice."  
  
"You are distracting me." she complained, and pointed at a small metal sink. "Go wash that infernal concotion off."  
  
Hojo complied meekly, heading over to the sink. He scrubbed a still wet hand through his hair in irritation, causing his spikes to droop. He looked so out of place in the lab that Catherine frowned at him.  
  
"You're breaking my concentration."  
  
"Sorry." he said, stepping backwards and knocking over a tray. Catherine glared at him.  
  
"Get OUT!" she snapped. Hojo fled.  
  
/That's what you get for liking a mad scientist./  
  
*  
  
Chris yawned, dragging himself out of bed. They had arrived in Paris only last night. They spoke little French - Claire took it in high school, Chris had to learn some for the Air Force, but enough to get a hotel.  
  
Chris pulled on a pair of jeans then trudged into the bathroom that he and Claire shared. After brushing his teeth and combing his hair, he pulled on a black t-shirt and knocked on his sister's door.  
  
"Sis? You ready?"  
  
There was a muffled groan from inside Claire's room.  
  
"Come *on*, Claire. If you hadn't had so much champagne..." he raised his fist to bang at the door some more, and it swung open. He started - Claire looked like a zombie.  
  
"That nice boy kept on refilling my glass." she muttered. She had not bothered to tie her hair back, it lay in tangled to her shoulders. Her eyes were bleary, her skin pale, her shoulders hunched and her posture bent.  
  
"So you didn't have to drink that much. Now, c'mon, we have a base to examine."  
  
"Aah, talk a bit quieter please, thank you." Claire flinched.  
  
"I'm not impressed."  
  
"And I don't fucking care if you're impressed." Claire said. "Can I just get an aspirin before we leave to scout out the base?"  
  
She gave him a pleading look.  
  
"Fine." he ruffled her hair. "And try to look presentable?"  
  
"I'm sure the zombies want their meat to be well-groomed."  
  
"Like they'll see long enough before I blast their heads off."  
  
Claire gave a weak laugh before following her brother. *  
  
"Phoenix?" an unfamiliar voice interrupted Cora's train of thought. She leapt to her feet out of her mid push up.  
  
"Hi." she greeted the unfamilar man. A young girl was at his soldier, hair in two braids, expression bright and cheery - but with an odd hardness and defiance to it.  
  
/Who is that.../  
  
It hit Cora like a bolt of lightning.  
  
/Amelia./  
  
"Amelia!" she cried, not caring what her sister wanted her to call her, not caring what this strange man thought. She wrapped her sister up in a hug. "Amelia! I haven't seen you in so long! I'm sorry - I was in Europe healing and even before then - I'm so sorry." An odd feeling welled in Cora - pride. Her sister was not whining, not complaining... she was like a well trained soldier. There was a pride in that, even if Cora would have felt horror so long ago.  
  
"Cora ... air!" gasped her little sister. She released Amelia.  
  
"I'm Jim Linden." Linden extended a hand and Cora tentavily shook it. "I'm here to talk to you about your sister."  
  
"Will you teach me knife work, Cora? I want to be a great soldier like you."  
  
"No!" Cora said vehemently. "You will NOT do that!"  
  
Linden shot her an odd look, and Cora realized that she had spoke in Spanish.  
  
"What did you come about?" she asked Linden cooly.  
  
"You don't want your sister on my UBCS team, and I don't want her on my team. Let's get her off, send her off to your mother in Florida."  
  
/Thank God. Mom's safe in Florida. And Amelia can be safe in Florida too. I just have to say the right word./  
  
"And why don't you want her on your team?" Cora asked frostily. The defiant fear on Amelia's face of being sent away faded, and was replaced with hope.  
  
/That *wasn't* the right word, Merandez!/  
  
"She's fourteen!" Linden said indignantly.  
  
"I try hard!" Amelia leaped in for her own defense. "I do everything you ask me! Even that time when I had to crawl through mud and hook up the explosives, I did it."  
  
Cora turned cold eyes to Linden.  
  
"You never even gave my sister a chance." she growled.  
  
"She's fourteen, and a bloody Mexi-" he never got the word out, as Cora tackled him , sending him crashing to the floor. Gasping for air, he stared up into Cora's face.  
  
"What does her being Mexican have to do with it? I am Mexican."  
  
"No - it's just that she was poor and she has limited knowledge and -"  
  
"So teach her." Cora said coldly.  
  
"Phoenix, with all due respect!"  
  
"I've shown you as much respect as you deserve." her voice was cold, a snake's hiss.  
  
/Why am I doing this?/  
  
Linden finally nodded, and Cora stood, her own voice replying to her question.  
  
/Pride. Pride and because you are under Umbrella's thumb. You want your sister to become a soldier, and you want to be proud of her. You want to keep her. How selfish./  
  
"Cora!" with a squeal, Amelia tackled her older sister. "Thank you!"  
  
"You won't be thanking me after you see a zombie." Cora told her sister grimly.  
  
"Zombies?" Amelia laughed it off, and she broke free, grinning wildly. "I saw them. They were slow, easy to take care of."  
  
/What happened to her innocence? No, she can protect herself this way. But ... But it isn't right./  
  
Cora sighed, and Amelia didn't notice, she was too busy chattering about how she would become a team leader one day.  
  
/She wanted to be a ballerina once. She even got mom to get her a tutu when money was so tight. Now look at her. She's like me. A monster./ 


	7. The Division Bell

A/N: Sorry guys, but you have to go read Chapter 5 – Communication Breakdown. I previously forgot to upload it. Thanks for Captain for beating and Shak for keeping me company as always. This is the lead up for the shit hitting the fan  
  
"Oh..." the word was a slur, unfocused and confused. Alanna tried to sit up. "Where am I?"  
  
The blond man from before. She let out a wail, thrashing wildly in her bonds.  
  
"Quiet." he said commandingly. "Quiet!"  
  
She stiled her cries, sniffling.  
  
"Please don't turn me into a zombie." she said. "I'm sorry I didn't do anything please please please." She looked around wildly at her surroundings. It was one of the labs - but not the type that she would work in. Instead of anything pristine, shining and white, it looked like a torture chamber out of a horror movie. Medical tools were drab - if clean - and unadorned metal seemed to be the predominate theme.  
  
He backhanded her casually, and she bit her tongue, shaking with fear and sobs. He smiled, then pulled out a small camera and took two pictures.  
  
"Why?!" she demanded.  
  
"You are the bait to make Gregory White and Gabriel Turnbull go on a trip that they would not consider otherwise."  
  
"No! Gabe! Please!"  
  
"Have fun. We'll have someone feed you." the blond man leered, an insane smile that lit up his face. "Oh yes, Spencer thinks he pulls the strings, but it is Alexia. She made that outbreak occur, and she will have what she wants. Alexia..." he finished in a sigh.  
  
"You're nuts!" Alanna said. The man shook his head.  
  
"If you persist with this irksome behaviour, I shall be tempted to withhold your food rations, my dear." He gave an insane giggle and a jaunty little wave and he left, leaving her in darkness. She struggled to get loose. She had to warn Gabe and Greg about this Alexia. She had to warn them. She was powerless, though.  
  
*  
  
Albert Wesker sighed, arranging his shades. The board meeting had gone on for well over half an hour now, and he was growing tired of the petty corporate backbiting which had ensued throughout the tiresome gathering  
  
"If we mimimize output..."  
  
"Yes, but then the profit..."  
  
"What if we were to merge some of our branches together?"  
  
There was a general murmur of opinion. Wesker sighed heavily. He did not know why they insisted on having him here for these. His specialty was killing people and doing missions, not listening to a group of old men droning on.  
  
He leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes between his sunglasses. Then he allowed the shades to slip a bit down his nose, enough to reveal his eyes.  
  
"Gentlemen," he asked in a calm voice - calm in a dangerous way. "We have yet to reach a satisfactory conclusion for your little troubles, and there is another problem to bring up. My patience wears thin."  
  
"Uranium City is the fault of Umbrella, not us." one man said. "I have no desire to risk the lives of agents in Reject Labs!"  
  
Wesker narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Gentlemen," he said again, languidly. "That city holds a wealth of viral information and potential combat data." His tone was soft, but the hard line of his mouth made it clear that he would not be dissuaded. He crossed his arms over his chest with a gesture of finality and informed them, "I will select my team and leave as soon as I am ready." He didn't bother to ask for permission, as far as he was concerned, the matter was settled."  
  
"Fine then, Mr. Wesker." the head of the board rolled his eyes. "Select your men and go off to Uranium City. We give you our grudging permission." he gave Wesker a look that Wesker supposed meant that he was supposed to apologize and forget the idea.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, I have a mission to plan and a team to choose."  
  
The board of directors looked furious, but they knew that he was right- which only served their anger.  
  
"Fine!" one snapped. "Chase your pipe dream, Albert!"  
  
He ignored them. He was beyond rising to petty pokes. He would just arrange to have the man killed later. But for now, he had a job to do. He just wished he could shake the feeling that there would be surprises that he did not like waiting for him. *  
  
Wesker had no way of realizing that in Paris, the same discussion was going on.  
  
Delta Team and Team Biohazard were eyeing each other warily as Spencer strode to the front of the look. Pale and drawn looking, Gabriel Turnbull was debating quietly with Gregory White. And Alexia Ashford stood as far away as she could from a glowering William Birkin, hands folded calmly and smile on her lips. Alfred dashed in beside her, giving her a nod of confirmation. Her expression did not change.  
  
Oswell Spencer, looking harassed, strode into the room. Cassandra and Catherine followed him. For once, the resemblence as sisters shone through. They both wore determined, if frightened, expressions, and were clad in the gear of soldiers.  
  
/So, they really are serious about this./  
  
Cora and Amelia Merandez were the only two soldiers from the opposite teams mingling with one another, and from the expressions on Linden and Scythe's face, neither of them approved.  
  
Amelia was snuggled against her sister, an inane grin on her face.  
  
"We." she stated to her older sister. "are going on a mission. Together!"  
  
"Great." Cora could keep an eye on her sister.  
  
Oswell Spencer strode to the front of the crowd, speaking in a loud voice that drew every eye. Curiously enough, Alexia merely arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Uranium City." Spencer said in a loud voice. "Was established in 1950 in Saskatchewan, for the drawing of uranium for the Earth. Sadly, this could not last forever, and the city was abandoned in 1970. Of course, Umbrella moved in, and soon, all sorts of activity was bustling."  
  
"They call Uranium City Reject Labs." Alexia spoke up frostily.  
  
"Well, some very benefitting research went on there." Spencer said.  
  
"Like zombies with six arms? Chameleons so large that had to be housed in warehouses, and could kill hundreds without being seen? Hunters that were immobile, but had claws larger than helicopter blades? Viruses that could do ntohing to the host for years, then cause them to mutate horribly?" Birkin, not to be outdone by Alexia, spoke up.  
  
Many of the UBCS soldiers gathered there went noticably pale. Amelia clutched onto Cora, knuckles turning white.  
  
"It's okay." Cora said. "Just listen."  
  
"There was an outbreak there, very, very recently." Spencer confirmed the suspicious of the gathered crowd. One man fainted, being caught by a grimacing Linden.  
  
"For God's sakes, Marx. Have to embarass me, don't you?" Linden muttered.  
  
"Now. We are going to need a few scientists to collect samples. These scientists will be Gregory White, Gabriel Turnbull, Alexia Ashford, and William Birkin."  
  
"What about me?!" Alfred Ashford leapt forward. "I will not leave my Alexia!"  
  
"I am perfectly capable of ensuring my own safety." Alexia brushed past her brother calmly. "You will only be a nusiance. Kindly desist from this purile emotional dependency. Make yourself of service by safeguarding the welfare of a girl like a good worker ant."  
  
/What girl?/ Cora noticed Gabriel and Gregory ashenfaced and furious looking. /What is she talking about? What is she up to?/  
  
"Go suit up." Linden said to his men, and Amelia reluctantly said good bye to her sister.  
  
"No briefing?" Scythe asked.  
  
"There's no briefing that's gonna be able to prepare us for this." Linden told Scythe. "Just stay out of my way and let me give orders."  
  
"No fucking way am I allowing you to take over this mission!"  
  
"You'd be too incompetant to do it anyways!"  
  
Scythe growled, clenching his fists, before growling a promise to the other team leader.  
  
"What, do you think that you are somehow *better* than me? Your team is pathetic! Salven? Marx? A fourteen year old."  
  
"Hey!" cried Cora and Amelia indignantly. They were ignored by the team leaders. They each scowled at each other, then stalked away.  
  
"Cora, we're going to be working together again!" Ruben Salven smiled slyly at Cora.  
  
"Salven, fuck off."  
  
"Don't use such language in front of the children!" Salven admonished. Cora scowled, shrugging him off, then stalked off to suit up. This wasn't her day.  
  
*  
  
The scientist didn't even notice the two shadows creeping quietly through the large courtyard. He simply gave the Cerebruses a large quantity of red meat, then took notes, before wandering back into the labs.  
  
"Whew." Claire whispered. "That was close."  
  
The Cerebruses caught scent of them, growling at their chain link fence. A few threw their body weight against the fence, going mad. The scientist rushed back out, and Claire and Chris moved on quickly.  
  
There were suddenly loud voices and footsteps. Banter, arguments, bragging... it was at least a dozen people.  
  
"Hide!"  
  
The two of them clambered onto a sleek black jet with the Umbrella logo emblazoned on the side. After ducking into a cargo room, they exhaled almost as one. Chris was clutching his Glock tightly, while Claire had her eyes closed.  
  
Suddenly, there was a hiss as the door for the plane opened.  
  
"They know we're here." Claire said faintly.  
  
"They might not."  
  
The cargo room door opened to the sound of laughing men, and Claire and Chris pressed against the wall. Claire was shaking slightly. The men did not come in, simply tossed duffle bags on the floor then strode out.  
  
The engines started.  
  
"Where are they going, Chris?" Claire demanded.  
  
"Hell again." he responded. 


	8. Highway to Hell

The black jet landed, and Cora had never been so glad. The last few hours had, quite frankly, been Hell.  
  
It had started when Linden tried to have senior agents at the front and newer soldiers at the back. Scythe told him to fuck off, as that meant that Delta Team would be at the front except for Amelia and Marx. Scythe wanted it so Delta Team sat one one side of the aisle, and Team Biohazard sat on the other. That was met with protest too, Cora wanted to sit with Amelia and Salven wanted to sit with the Spencer girls and Cora.  
  
Finally, everyone had just sat down wherever they pleased. Salven had sandwiched himself between the Spencer girls. Catherine was staring at him with a look of utter revulsion while Cassandra was joking and laughing with him. She didn't seem to realize what he was up to.  
  
Knowing her sharp mind though, it was more likely that she was just amused by his audacity.  
  
Hojo was sitting near Catherine, watching her thoughtfully. She gave him a cold stare before turning to look out the window. Her body language was obvious. 'I am surrounded by morons.'  
  
Cora sat at the back with Amelia and Ada. Alexia did not sit too far off from Cora, but still aloof from the others. Once Cora could have sworn that those cold blue eyes were focused on her, but when Cora turned her head, Alexia was calmly unfolding a lab coat. Cora's mouth fell open when she saw the lab coat.  
  
All of the scientists that Cora had ever seen wore plain, unadored white. This looked like Alexia had had a tailor go to this.  
  
"That's ridiculous!" Willam Birkin had tried to sit as far away from Alexia had possible, but he still caught sight of it. Cora wondered how good his eyesight was to see the coat from that far. He burst into laughter. Alexia stared at him cooly. "You do not mean that you intend to do field work in such a ridiculous garment? No wonder you are unarmed! Any monster who sees that will be deceased from choking on their own laughter!"  
  
"Any trogdolyte can see that someone as genetically inferior as yourself daring to speak to me as if I were a coadjutor of yours is far more genial than any article of clothing that has ever belonged to me!"  
  
The rest of the argument sailed clear over the other occupents of the jet's heads. Finally, Alexia ended the argument by tilting her head out the window and ignoring Birkin. For a moment, this seemed to enrage him more than any nine-syllable word she could have called him. Then he merely sat down and glared at the back of the seat in front of him.  
  
It had been enough for the men and women on the plane to forget where they were heading and why.  
  
People stood up, chattering softly, when a loud creaking sound cut them off. They all froze.  
  
"What the hell?" Linden asked, and then he disappeared as something enormous and green split the jet in half. It took Cora half a second to figure out what was going on - some sort of giant snake had wrapped itself around the jet and was squeezing tightly.  
  
Cora was knocked off her feet as the jet broke in half. The snake spun smoothly, knocking the half of the jet that she and Amelia were in far off. Alexia, oddly, was merely holding onto a handrail and looking as though they had merely hit some turbulence.  
  
/She's either a moron or insane./  
  
"Cora!" Amelia shrieked, gripping onto Cora. The jet half landed, throwing Cora and Amelia from the jet into a thick bush.  
  
"You okay, Amelia?" Cora asked the young girl who was shaking violently. Alexia had landed on her feet gracefully.  
  
/How the hell? We were tossed around like rag dolls!/  
  
Alexia made a slashing motion with a single fingernail across her wrist, then flicked it, sending blood cascading and splashing across the monster. For a second, the monster turned with Linden and Marx in it's mouth - either dead or dying.  
  
/Poor bastards./  
  
Then the monster burst into flame, and it toppled over. The other half of the jet and anyone inside was crushed.  
  
"Scythe!" Cora screamed. Amelia stared at the remains of their transportation, shaking.  
  
"Cora... what are we going to do?"  
  
"We are going to ..." Cora checked her weapons over anxiously. She did not know. She had her knives, her Glock, and a sniper rifle. Not too good against an entire city. Maybe it would be better if she did not come back alive. If Cassandra and Catherine were dead, Spencer would kill her. There was no doubt about it.  
  
There was suddenly a rustling in the leaves, and Cora spun around with her Glock raised. Thankfully, the people who burst through the thick leaves were not infected. Alexia Ashford, despite being a bit ruffled, was as cool and queenly as ever, and Cassandra Spencer was shaking, her sunglasses askew.  
  
"Are we the only ones?" Cora asked, trying not to sound as afraid as she felt.  
  
"No." Cassandra shook her head. Scythe and the others found a cave nearby, a couple of them are injured. They can't continue on. Hojo and Catherine went north. They were with William Birkin."  
  
"The rest are dead." Alexia's voice was a cool, uncaring song. "It is as well. The would only serve as nuisances."  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Cora snapped. She knew that she looked a mess next to the pristine Alexia, but that did not dull her courage any. "They're dead ... eaten alive..." she felt queasy, and shook her head. "Don't you care?"  
  
"No." Alexia said, then she smiled. There was something in that smile that Cora did not trust, but if Alexia could take out that monster without a second thought and if she was as intelligent as she claimed, there were worse people to have by your side.  
  
"It's not safe out here."  
  
"I know a facility where we can go." Alexia turned around, and not waiting for her younger companions, strode off.  
  
*  
  
Catherine Spencer pressed her back against a tree. Her tidy black curls were a mess, her eyes frantic. She gripped the gun like she was going to bludgeon the next zombie to come around the corner. It was alien to her; she didn't know how to use it anymore than Hojo knew how to splice genes.  
  
"This is ridiculous!" she spluttered. "Where do we go?"  
  
"I don't know." Hojo admitted. Catherine turned her large frightened blue eyes to William Birkin, who was frowning.  
  
"Fascinating." he was saying, staring at the remains of the monster. "The blood must have molecules which spark the fire after contact with ... not oxygen, unless if it was a delayed reaction?" he frowned to himself.  
  
"Uh, Mr. Birkin?" Hojo asked, and Birkin turned around to give him a cold stare. "No offense, but shouldn't we be moving somewhere?"  
  
"I don't know my way around." Birkin told him simply. "But if this was a city, all we have to do is find the city itself instead of standing out here."  
  
/Why didn't you think about that? Idiot!/  
  
"My lady?" Hojo offered a hand to Catherine to help her through the wilderness. He got a flat, cold stare in return.  
  
"I can walk by myself, thank you very much." She said icily, took two steps, and tripped over a root and landed face first. When she got back up, she looked like she was about to cry.  
  
"I guess you'd rather be in the labs?"  
  
"Don't you condesend to me, you cretin!" Catherine fired up at Hojo, seeming to bristle with rage. Hojo blinked, then nodded.  
  
He didn't like this group. Catherine was good enough, he had a wee crush on her. But Birkin ... he had secrets. He had seen the man pratically tear himself a way out of the jet before it was decimated.  
  
/Maybe he expirimented on himself. All of the scientists are crazy like that./  
  
Hojo shrugged then set about trying to think up some tactics. He could only draw a blank.  
  
*  
  
Chris lay on the ground, panting. Claire was sprawled on the ground from where she had flung herself out a window.  
  
"This ... is ... crazy!" she finally managed to say, sitting up.  
  
"You're telling me." he stood, offering his sister a hand. She took it and they examined their surroundings. A forest, but a forest full of who knew what. Zombies, probably. There always were. But with Umbrella, who could tell what they had up their sleeve?  
  
There was a sharp crack, and Chris spun on his heel, gun out of his pocket smoothly and pointed at a young hispanic man coming out of the trees. He didn't look afraid. His long hair hung into his face, but it didn't hide the light in his eyes as he looked at Claire.  
  
/That cheeky bastard better not be thinking what I think he is./  
  
"Hey." the man said, turning to Claire and kissing her hand. Claire stared at him. "Hello, chica." he told her. As he straightened, Chris put the gun against his head.  
  
"Who the hell are you?!" he barked.  
  
"Ruben Salven. UBSC Delta Team. Probably the only surviving member. You're S.T.A.R.S.?"  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"The t-shirt you're wearing says S.T.A.R.S. on it." Salven said calmly, winking at Claire. Chris snarled. "Now, look, you do know that your chances of survival are nil without a guide, right? If you were to allow me to lead you and your friend," his eyes flickered back to Claire, and he smiled. Claire did not smile back. "to a safe place, would you not shoot me?"  
  
"Guide away." Chris said through clenched teeth.  
  
* 


	9. Out To Get Me

A harsh wind blew outside, but the Team Biohazard members inside were not affected by it. Tweek was furious, glaring at the splint on his leg. Foxx was muttering darkly. Scythe was looking at Ada. A stray bullet from Marx's gun as he tried to escape his fate at the jaws of that ... that monster had grazed her arm, and she was beat up besides. She was also giving her laptop an unreadable look.  
  
"Anything wrong, Pandora?" he asked.  
  
"Four of our team members are out there. Spencer, Hojo, Phoenix. And I don't know what to do! My mission was always 'just go to the control room', just go there and get files or whatever! But now ..." she let out a soft hiss of frustration, punching her thigh in anger.  
  
"What we do, is wait." Scythe said patiently. "Tweek isn't going anywhere."  
  
"Which fucking bites!" Tweek interjected.  
  
"And we know *nothing* about this situation. I'm trying to think. Even if I didn't care about any of your lives, if anyone dies, it's on my head. You know Bolt, old Delta leader? He survived the HCF raid. Not for long though. They like to consider us rather valuable, and if a leader's stupid enough to get his team killed then ..." he shrugged. "I don't know how Umbrella works, but I know enough not to piss them off."  
  
The wind gusted again, whistling through the make shift barricade of broken sticks they had set up.  
  
"If any thing like that lizard comes, we're screwed." Foxx told the others.  
  
"Light fires." Scythe said grimly. "I don't intend to die."  
  
It would be hard defending themselves in such poor conditions, Scythe did not see what else they could do, so he kept a firm hold on the one thing in this situation which gave familiarity to him and his men; he continued to give orders.  
  
"Try not to make them smoke only fires." he said, getting himself to his feet. He was not injured, just stiff and sore. And possibly in shock - he had not liked Linden, but seeing him up in that giant thing's mouth, the jaws piercing him ... Scythe gave a slight shudder. That could happen to any of Team Biohazard, if he was unlucky.  
  
He would not allow it to happen though. *  
  
Half way to the city, Amelia Merandez, covered with sticky zombie goo and blood, decided that she could not take it anymore. Her solution was to sit down and cry.  
  
"I can't take this anymore." she sobbed. "It's horrible. It's horrible and I hate it."  
  
The three women had to stop in their tracks. Alexia Ashford looked disgusted, as though Amelia was doing something grotesque.  
  
"Get up you obnoxious child!" she said to the crying Amelia.  
  
"Don't talk to my sister that way!" Cora said indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. Cassandra blinked, then knelt by Amelia's side. She fumbled in her belt pouch for a moment before pulling out a small needle.  
  
"Only a sedative." she assured Cora. "I wouldn't infect her - you know that, right?" Cassandra scowled as she scooped up the now sleepy Amelia in her arms. "She won't make a fuss now."  
  
"Perhaps you are not as imbecilic as I first hypothesied, my dear." Alexia's face was calm, showing nothing, and her voice was just as cool and condescending. Cassandra for a moment looked as though she wanted to hit Alexia, but she covered herself with the same icy calm and nodded before hurrying off.  
  
"There is a small lab not far from here." Alexia said. "We will go that way."  
  
"Won't it be infested?" Cassandra asked.  
  
"There may be a smattering of the Infected there." Alexia said. "But it will pose no more than a minor inconvience."  
  
"She's too arrogant." Cassandra whispered to Cora.  
  
"I can hear you." was all Alexia said. Cassandra went slightly ashen faced - the woman was more than twenty paces away. But she still hurried after her. *  
For a man with a gun trained on him, Ruben Salven was looking very calm. Claire had offered him a sandwich, and he had accepted it and was now gnawing on it. He might have been an all right man - but Claire could not forget the fact that he was Umbrella.  
  
/Jill told you about Carlos./ Claire reminded herself. /He was Umbrella./  
  
Salven had finished the sandwich and sighed, gripping his Socom tightly. By the look on Chris' face, he was strongly considering killing Ruben and taking the gun for himself.  
  
"So. Where's this city?"  
  
"No clue." Salven admitted freely.  
  
"You told us that you could act as a guide!" Chris growled.  
  
"Well, first I need to figure out where the hell we are." Salven said as though he was speaking to a two year old. Then he flashed Claire a smile. "Linden had me examine those maps until I was blind. I could kill him. But wait - isn't he already dead?"  
  
At this, Salven broke into raucous laughter. Claire frowned. He was treating the death of his teammate like it was a funny thing.  
  
"Well, go on then. Find us a safe place." Chris ordered. Salven nodded.  
  
"There's a lab around here somewhere, a small one." and with that, the Umrella Agent sauntered off into the wilderness.  
  
"Hullo, you ugly bastard!" Salven's voice greeted.  
  
There was the sound of a zombie moaning, a gunshot, and then silence. Chris and Claire hurried, lest they lose the Umbrella soldier.  
  
"As soon as we find transportation." Chris told his sister softly. "I will kill him."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Are you crazy? He's Umbrella!"  
  
"Still." Claire shrugged, then trailed off. Carlos had been Umbrella. And Steve's father had worked for Umbrella. "They're not *all* bad apples." she finally said.  
  
Chris snorted in disbelief.  
  
*  
  
Catherine, Hojo, and Birkin were making their way towards a lab. Or at least, they had been - before the six armed zombie had tackled Catherine. She had shrieked, smashing his face in but not managing to keep herself safe. She had been seconds away from being infected before Birkin had torn the zombie apart.  
  
Literally.  
  
He had seized the thing by an arm, tugging ferociously with one hand and taking it's head off with a single ferocious gesture. The thing had stumbled around, and Birkin had finally remembered that he had had a gun - emptying the entire round into the thing.  
  
He had seemed as shaken as they, and when Catherine tentavely raised the question, he had snapped at her. So now they continued on in the silence, ignoring the moans of the dead and Hunter's screams.  
  
What was going on here?  
  
*  
  
Albert Wesker was not concerned with the monsters in the city. They would not bother him at all. He was more concerned with the humans. He could make out vaguely the remains of a jet in a clearing, which meant people.  
  
Maybe he could have a bit of fun. He landed beside the sleek black jet. There was a cave nearby filled with people, and he could scent a hint of smoke among the scents of the soldiers. But what fun was it to take out helpless people? They were immobile - he would come back for them later.  
  
He strolled over to the crudely cut out trails that people had made for themselves. Familiar scents, some of them. Something akin to Spencer's went in two directions. Relatives, perhaps? A soldier and another familiar scent that confused him to no end. He was lucky the weather was so mild - any wind at all would throw this ability off to no end.  
  
Merandez had gone one way, it seemed. With Alexia. Most scents weren't familiar - except for the smell that was familiar , that he had once known very well, but was now unremembered. But he could pick out the scent of Alexia and Merandez anywhere. Alexia had withheld the T-Veronica from him. He was not used to resistance.  
  
And if she had somehow survived Redfield, she would not survive him. And Merandez. How had she gotten away from him that time months ago? He had promised to make her scream , and he would. There was no way she would survive. He gave one last sniff to see what was ahead - and there was a scent that made him both overwhelmed with joy and blind with fury.  
  
Redfield.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"What is it, Watts?" snapped Wesker. Watts gave a start, they were not used to his heightened senses.  
  
"Any orders?"  
  
"Yes. Follow me." 


	10. Infected

Cora pushed one of the doors to the labratory open tentatively. It fell to the floor with a loud bang, causing Cassandra to flinch.  
  
"It's okay." Cora said. "I don't see anyone inside."  
  
Alexia swept past the two, leaving them no choice but to follow. The halls were empty for now, but bloodstains on the walls and corpses flung about randomly ensured that there were monsters about.  
  
"Do you think any are left?" Cora asked Cass.  
  
"Possibly. But if they were programmed to kill, they might have just turned on eachother." Cass stepped over a corpse as though it was just a log. She was as coldly impervious to the bodies on the floor as Alexia, but the idea of a monster attacking them seemed to terrify her.  
  
Alexia turned into a small laboratory, then smiled. There was a metal table with unbuckled strapas. Cora shuddered.  
  
"Shouldn't we find somewhere else to go?" she asked. "This place gives me the heebie jeebies.  
  
Alexia struck like a snake. She spun smoothly, and there was a loud 'crack!' as Cassandra fell to the groud like a limp rag doll.  
  
"Now that that troublesome worker ant is incapacitated..." Alexia said. Cora was backing away, gun raised.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" Cora asked. She shook from head to foot. Alexia again struck swiftly, and before Cora knew it there was a needle in her neck.  
  
She let out a piercing scream, which Alexia did not seem to mind. Like her companion, she crumpled into a pile. Yet she twitched violently, her voice rising and falling in gibberish mixed in with pleas and yelps.  
  
Alexia merely lifted her up like a doll, strapping her to a gurney and removing the syringe. She then sat down to wait. She could not help giggling, no matter how foolish it sounded.  
  
"That was ... exhilerating." she whispered.  
  
*  
  
Amelia Merandez had fallen behind the others. Her gear was heavy, her legs felt like lead.  
  
"Cora!" she cried desolately. "Wait for me!"  
  
She turned a corner, hearing soft laughter behind a closed door. She flung her weight at it, enough to throw it open and to break the lock. Ignoring the shooting pains in her shoulder, she darted in. Cora turned her head to the side, it was all she could move, strapped to a large metal table as she was. She had no pupils, and she was soaked in sweat, her skin stretched like parchment over her bones.  
  
"Funcione, hermana! ¡Funcione! ¡Consiga lejos! ¡Por favor!" Cora screamed. Run, sister. Run. Get away. Please. Begging, and begging in her native language.  
  
"What did you do to her?!" Amelia screamed. She had thought that she was out of tears, but more were streaming down her face.  
  
Alexia Ashford stood calmly, ignoring the screams of the Merandez sisters. For a moment, brown eyes met blue one. Then, an enormous blast of fire formed out of Alexia's wrist, knocking Amelia back out into the hall.  
  
She was dead before she hit the ground.  
  
Cora, for a moment, seemed almost about to break free form her bonds. Just for a moment. Then she let out a sob and relaxed, shaking with sobs.  
  
"Amelia?" Cora's voice shook violently. "Amelia?!"  
  
There was no answer except for the blood pounding in Cora's ears.  
  
"She's unconscious." Cora said the words softly, but she knew they were not true. "No. Please, God, no. She was just a kid! She'll never go to the prom ... never get married ... never have a kid of her own ... she could have..." tears spilled out of Cora's eyes as she rambled on half coherently. Then she seized on one thought that seemed to give her life.  
  
"You killed her." the words were a soft murmur, rising quickly. "You killed her you killed her YOU FUCKING KILLED HER YOU BITCH! AMELIA! NO!" The shrieks went on and on, spreading through the halls.  
  
Alexia calmly took another needle out of her pouch, striking Cora again. But the virus in her blood stream fought the sedative.  
  
¡Perra! ¡Asesino! ¡Matanza de I'll usted!" Alexia understood the Spanish as well as she did her native language of English. 'Bitch! Murderer! I'll kill you!'  
  
"¡Ella wasn't que va a lastimarle! ¡Ella era mi hermana! ¡Usted es una mujer muerta, Alexia! ¡Usted me oye?! ¡Muerto!" Cora shrieked, before slumping against her bonds and crying uncontrollably. The virus was reacting, the Spanish was a sign of that. 'She wasn't going to hurt you! She was my sister! You are a dead woman, Alexia! You hear me?! Dead!'  
  
Alexia had been dead once. No more. She would live in glorious radiance. The world would be hers, the Queen Ant.  
  
*  
  
Birkin heard the shrieks first. Pleas for help. Threats. Accusations. Even Hojo and Catherine heard them.  
  
"What's going on in there?"  
  
"Alexia!" scowled Birkin. "It's preposterious! She's ... she's sabotaging the mission!"  
  
"Oh." Catherine didn't seem fazed.  
  
"That sounds like Cora!" Hojo said. There was shock in his voice. Shock and fear. He bolted inside of the lab. "Cora! Cora!"  
  
"That cretin!" Catherine muttered, swiftly following him. Or at least, she would have been swift if she didn't keep on stumbling.  
  
*  
  
Chris and Claire followed their guide. He seemed to take great pride in telling zombies that they were ugly and disgusting, as well as the fact that he wouldn't lay them even if they were human.  
  
"Why are we following him, again?" Claire asked.  
  
"So we don't get lost in the the forest and killed by a monster?"  
  
"I think I'd prefer the monsters to him. He tried to grab my ass."  
  
Chris' face steadily darkened, and he raised his gun. Before Claire could stop him or before Chris could shoot Salven in the back of the head, screams burst through their conversation.  
  
"Woah." Salven said at the Spanish that was echoing down the halls. "She's pissed."  
  
"What is she saying? What the hell is going on?" Claire asked. She had moved slightly closer to Chris and there was fear battling determination on her face.  
  
"Eh, the regular 'you killed her so I'll kill you you bitch.'" Salven shrugged it off. Then slow recognition dawned on his face. "Hey! That's Cora! I can't screw her if she's dead!"  
  
And with that, he bolted off. Chris and Claire hurried after him.  
  
"What ... the hell is this ... all about?" Claire gasped.  
  
"I don't even want to know.  
  
*  
  
Catherine and Hojo burst through the doors.  
  
"Aha!" Hojo said dramatically, pointing a finger angrily at Alexia, who was sitting there patiently. Catherine was staring at Cora.  
  
"That's fascinating." she whispered. "The way you have injected her with ... a new virus? A variation of the T-Veronica?"  
  
"Catherine!" Hojo hissed. "She's EVIL! As in, you shouldn't be marvelling over her scientific achievements when she IS KILLING PEOPLE LEFT AND RIGHT!"  
  
Catherine's only responce was a cool glare. Alexia stood up, smiling slightly. Not a friendly smile either, a malicious, comtemptious smile.  
  
"You entertain thoughts of ... rescuing your friend?" The look on Alexia's face said that she would not do the same thing. "It is too late. I would continue on with your little mission." she smiled again, an even nastier smile.  
  
Hojo opened his mouth, but he never got the chance to finish. William Birkin, face flushed with the exertion of running her so quickly, entered the room.  
  
"Spencer. Hojo. Leave." he said in the voice that had made him infamous as 'Slavedriver Birkin' so many years ago. "Now. I will settle this trifle with Miss Ashford." 


	11. Us and Them

Albert Wesker had a split second decision to make. He could go after Chris Redfield, his sister, and the second man with them - a decision that could cost him his team, or he could go see what the fracas was with the Ashford and Merandez.  
  
On the other hand, there was the matter of settling a dispute with Redfield.  
  
"Ah, Redfield, don't be so sure of your escape, there are so many factors that you result in ... disaster."  
  
While it would be good for Wesker to finally scratch the irritating itch of the Redfields, he wanted them to suffer first.  
  
He frowned slightly, pale lips twisting in a grimace. Either way held dangers and chances to let Redfield get away. And that could not be allowed.  
  
Oh yes, Chris Redfield would die screaming for mercy, and his little sister would go in the same way. At that, the grimace smoothed out. He made his decision. *  
  
Ruben Salven dashed through the halls, gun raised.  
  
"For justice!" he howled. He had heard that from a movie once, and while he did not give a fig about justice, he figured that it was a pretty cool thing to scream while going to save one's potential ladyfriend.  
  
"He's an idiot." Chris said bleakly.  
  
"You just realized that?"  
  
Salven howled on regardless, running as fast he could. He was deterred by this, however, by bumping into Hojo.  
  
Hojo looked down on Ruben Salven, smiling. He had never had the disdain for him that the others had had. He actually thought he was a friendly guy, even if he did go a bit overboard at times.  
  
"Hi." he greeted Salven. Then he took a deep breath, and words began to spill out "Cora's in trouble with Alexia and I think Cassandra is too but I'm not sure and if worst comes to worst will you help us?" Hojo took another breath  
  
"What's happening to Cora?"  
  
"Birkin's taking care of it." Hojo said worridly. Catherine gave a small nod.  
  
"He's an accomplished scientist. I'm sure he'll be able to do something. And he has ... other qualifications." Catherine said calmly. Salven stared at her.  
  
"He's facing a mutant antwomanbeast and the only thing he has going for him is a degree in science? We are so screwed. She might come after one of us after she's done with Cora."  
  
"Oh. Shit." Hojo said faintly.  
  
Meanwhile, Chris and Claire were struggling with these facts. Chris had gone the colour of chalk, while Claire had a puzzled expression on her face.  
  
"Mutant antwomanbeast?" Claire asked. "and Birkin? Are you talking about ... Alexia Ashford and William Birkin?"  
  
Catherine turned on them, ready to condescend, when she realized that they were on UBCS soldiers as she had first thought.  
  
"Who the devil are you?!" she spluttered, giving off a fine impression of her uncle under stress.  
  
"I'm Chris Redfield. This is my sister, Claire."  
  
Catherine lived her life in the labs, and she lived her life by Umbrella's rules. And a rule by Umbrella that was very high up on the list was 'S.T.A.R.S. members are pure evil."  
  
Hojo did not seem to have some reservations.  
  
"Hell, I don't care if you're S.T.A.R.S. I just want to see a friendly face." and he offered a hand.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you playing at, Hojo?!" Catherine's voice was a tone shriller than it had been before. "These cretins have been destroying some of our most important laboratories! They are *not* our friends!"  
  
"And who are you?" Claire asked, hand on her gun.  
  
"I am Catherine Elizabeth Spencer!" she told them. Her confusion was great when neither of them cowered or trembled, just got even more stony faced. When Catherine was a child, all she had to do was explain just who she was and she got what she want. The scientists would not let her study this and this - Catherine made it clear that her uncle would not be happy. It was bad form, but Catherine had to do it to get into the labs in the first place.  
  
Seeing two people who actually were going to hurt her because of her family was a concept that was entirely new to her.  
  
"Spencer." she repeated. "My uncle founded Umbrella?"  
  
"Haha, now, guys." Hojo said placidly. "We don't want to start any trouble, now do we?"  
  
Catherine and the Redfields glared at each other, ignoring Hojo.  
  
*  
  
He was about to antagonise Alexia Ashford, who posessed genetically enhanced intelligence in addition to her T-Veronica induced combat abilities. No matter how scientifically skilled Birkin was, no matter how more prudent, this was a confontation which held an unsettling likelihood of defeat on his part.  
  
/Why did I have to come along on this unnecessary expedition? I'm a scientist!/  
  
Needless to say, he had to act quickly before Alexia mutated. So he flung himself forward, throwing out a forearm awkwardly. It was a move he had seen Albert use before, and his lanky frame felt odd fighting. His forearm caught Alexia in the chest, pinning her against the wall.  
  
It was hard to say who was more surprised; William or Alexia. Alexia's emotions were for once betrayed on her face. Her china blue eyes were wide, her little rosebud mouth had dropped open, and she was ashen. Just for a second though. One moment she looked as though she had seen a ghost, the next as though she was the puppet master again.  
  
"The antidote." William demanded.  
  
"I am surprised that you would show pity for her." Alexia said softly. "It is in the name of science."  
  
"I don't care about her." William said. It was the truth. "But I know what you're planning. Do you still take me for an idiot after all these years? I guessed right after that first meeting with the Spencer girl and her. You want to use the UBSC as your own little army." William smirked slightly. "How quaint, Alexia. World domination, I'm guessing, is your final goal. I thought you had a little more brains than that. I just hope that you are intelligent enough to hand over the antidote."  
  
Of course, she would have an antidote. As much as Alexia wanted an army, if there was a risk of her soldiers growing stronger than her, it would be put to a stop immediately.  
  
In truth, Birkin did not know what he would do if she didn't comply. This newfound strength had to have been done by the Spencer sisters. What else could cause it? Again, that gas masked man floated in front of his vision. Something else. Annette, screaming and panicking.  
  
To Birkin's shock, Alexia calmly reached into her pocket and pulled out the antidote.  
  
"Thank you." Birkin said calmly, turning. The girl's condition was getting worse. Her skin was gray, her eyes closed, and she twitched and muttered oddly. Her eyes suddenly shot open, to reveal deep pools of blue gray eyes with no pupil.  
  
"Hulio!" she cried out. "Amelia! Mother!" and then she lay back, panting. That pupilless fixed on Alexia and her teeth were bared in a snarl.  
  
At least she was strapped down. Calmly, Birkin strode over and injected the antidote.  
  
"It's pecuilar how much you do for the company that betrayed you." Alexia said calmly.  
  
Birkin froze, needle still in Merandez.  
  
"Betrayal?" he asked softly. His voice did not shake, but it was alarming how much effort it took for that to happen. There was a surging at the back of his head, of old buried memories being un earthed.  
  
"You developed the G-Virus, you stablized it." Alexia said calmly. She had the upper hand, and she knew it. "Umbrella took it when you would not hand it over freely. By force."  
  
The memories broke loose from their containment. The UBSC team, gunning him down, taking the sample. Birkin injecting the sample into himself and turning into a monster. And the deaths he had caused. The soldiers. Those casualties weren't the one that bothered him though.  
  
He had killed his wife, Annette. Gutted her. For some reason, his knees felt weak. That was ridiculous! He had been quite fond of Annette, but ...  
  
His world had been turned upside down. But he could not show Alexia that weakness, she would lunge at a moment's notice. He turned around, wearing a slight smile that belied his inner turmoil.  
  
"Yes, well, I got my revenge in the end, didn't I?" he asked. "Injected myself with my own virus - and it did work, after all. And it seems that I have the advantage here. Even if that damned Redfield did kill me, I've been bought back..." Despite the calmness of his face, his hands were shaking and he found himself fidgeting and shuffling about.  
  
/I'm not a bad person, I'm just a scientist. If Spencer hadn't done it, I wouldn't have had to kill anyone. That's all./  
  
"Claire Redfield is alive. And she is here, in Uranium City. Inside this lab itself."  
  
Albert had always been the one for revenge. If someone gets one up from you, get back at them tenfold. Birkin had only gotten revenge if he had the chance, if it was handed to him on a silver platter.  
  
And it appeared that it had been in this instance.  
  
"This does not mean that I will ally with you, Alexia." Birkin said. He wouldn't put it past her to plan that. But he would get his revenge. Alexia just smiled to herself, sweeping out past him. The simpleton Birkin did not know it, but he was just a marionette dancing on her strings. If even a trace of the G-Virus still flowed through his veins, then he could get Alexia's revenge like a good worker ant. 


	12. Here Come The Ice Wolves

Cora Merandez felt groggy, but the pain in her limbs had ceased and the clouds fogging her memory were cleared. She groaned softly.  
  
"You're awake." William Birkin bent over her, for the moment double.  
  
"Where the hell is she?" Cora snarled. "Alexia! Where is she?!"  
  
"She left." Birkin calmly began to loosen the straps. Cora sat up gingerly, rubbing her wrists. She swung herself off the table with a newfound agility. Then she stopped half way.  
  
A putrid smell had invaded her nostrils.  
  
"You stink!" she blurted in surprise, rubbing at her nose. Birkin's eyebrows rose a fraction. Everything stank. The entire room did. That foul stench seemed to spread everywhere, clouding her head and turning her stomach.  
  
She bent over a waste can in the corner and vomited, but it did not chase the smell away.  
  
"I'm assuming that your acute sense of olfation is a side-effect." Birkin said, as calmly as saying that he was assuming that she was Mexican or that the weather was fine today.  
  
"Acute?" Cora asked faintly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and straightening. "No. I can't smell anything except for ... for this." She hesitated before adding. "And it's coming from you and me the most."  
  
A light of excitement began to shine in Birkin's pale eyes. "You can smell out B.O.Ws!"  
  
"Why would I want to do that?" Cora said irritably. Then her eyes widened as she looked down on herself. "You're... No. I can't be a B.O.W.! I'm just Cora Merandez! Not ... Not a monster!"  
  
"Well, you are. You might as well deal with it." Birkin said.  
  
Cora looked sadly on Amelia's corpse, charred and twisted out in the hall. Her childish face was twisted forever into a look of fear and agony. Then she looked on Cassandra. The Spencer girl's chest rose and fell slowly, and her brown hair had a dark patch of blood where Alexia had hit her.  
  
Merandez began to whimper, bottom lip trembling and tears welling up.  
  
"This is all my fault." she said shakily. Her breathing quickend, tears started to roll down her cheeks. "This is my fault!" Her breathing quickened even more, and she let out a low sob. Another sob followed this one, higher in pitch.  
  
Birkin awkwardly patted her on the shoulder.  
  
"Um. There, there." he offered. She stared at him wildly for a moment, then seized his lapel.  
  
"I killed her." she was hyperventilating, and still crying, making her almost unintelligable. "I killed her with my pride. I could have sent her home. I could have givn her to Mother. And ... and now she's dead because of me. I didn't want her dead. I just ..."  
  
Birkin took care of the hysterical girl the only way he knew how, but slapping her full on. Her head snapped to the side, an angry red mark appearing on her cheek almost instantly. She turned to him, eyes wide and still full of tears. Her breathing was slowed now, and she had stopped crying.  
  
"You *slapped* me!"  
  
"Get Spencer to her sister, now." ordered Birkin calmly.  
  
Cora sulkily obeyed.  
  
*  
  
Claire and Chris had both pulled out guns in a heart beat, leaving the Umbrella employees in a predicament.  
  
"Now, look." Salven said in a reasonable tone. "I have a wife. Plus, I have commitments. Like ... being your guide!"  
"Guide? You don't even know your way to the city."  
  
"Well, no, but does that really matter in the grand scheme of things?" Salven with a small smile that was stopped by a harsh look from Chris. Catherine seemed to remember that she had a gun for the first time, so she drew it as well.  
  
"Catherine, you're not going to shoot them are you?" Hojo asked worridely.  
  
"They seem to have no problems with shooting us!" Catherine responded.  
  
Salven merely sighed. But before anyone could fire, a shout from down the hall silenced them.  
  
"Catherine!"  
  
Catherine lowered her gun and turned to face Cora Merandez, running down the hall. She was awkwardly carrying Cassandra, making the run more of an jerky lurch.  
  
"What happened, Phoenix?" Catherine's eyes never left her sister.  
  
"Alexia happened." Cora responded grimly. "Get her some help."  
  
Catherine nodded, and Cora helped her sling one of Cassandra's arms over her shoulder. It wasn't a good arrangement, but it would do. Cora turned to Salven and Hojo.  
  
"Hojo, go help her. Salven, stick with me."  
  
"Who the hell are you to be giving orders?" Salven asked. "My plan is to go and attempt to find an alive female around here. Then, seduce her with my..."  
  
"Salven, fuck up. My team leader is in a cave somewhere, and yours is dead. You're an idiot, so I'm leading."  
  
He blinked at her agressive words.  
  
*  
  
Chris Redfield and Claire Redfield quietly conferred further down the hall.  
  
Chris Redfield was of the opinion to kill the Umbrella people and get out of here the usual way - self -destruct, then get transportation. Claire was of the opinion that even if that did work, there was still the rest of Uranium City to go through, and the more guns they had the more chance they had to stay alive.  
  
"This is pathetic." Chris muttered.  
  
/Of all the messes I could have gotten into.../  
  
Suddenly the pretty Latino girl gave a shout, reaching for her holster with one hand and a knife slipping into the other from up her sleeves.  
  
"Wesker!"  
  
"What?" Chris turned to stare at her. There was no sign of him. But he was proven wrong as a blur of black suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Chris had no idea how the girl knew that he was coming, but he was welcome for the warning.  
  
He watched in amazement as she turned to face him bravely, snarling.  
  
"I will not be a victim." She told Wesker. Wesker only seemed to have a fraction of his attention on her, his eyes were on the Redfields. The Latino girl struggled with herself before shouting over her shoulder a warning.  
  
"Run, you idiots! I don't know who you are - but run!" Then with a mutter that sounded suspiciously like "I'm *not* a bad person. I'm not!", she lunged towards Wesker.  
  
Her boot took him in the stomach, and she smoothly turned like a dancer to catch him with her other foot in the face. Her fluidity did not seem human, and it was odd how her nose was wrinkled as if she smelt something bad, but Chris was thankful for any distraction. She was about to launch another attack, when like a striking viper, Wesker seized her by the throat.  
  
"While I am not displeased that you are here, Miss Merandez, I have more important matters to take care of."  
  
And with that, he tossed her aside like a rag doll. Chris watched, horrified, as she hit the wall with a dulled thud and hit the floor, sprawled out weakly on the ground. He turned back to Chris.  
  
Chris had never believed that Wesker was dead, and he had never believed that he could escape without one of them dead. He just did not want it to happen today. He wasn't ready, and Wesker was. Plus, Wesker had his viral powers. Only a miracle could save him from injury or worse now, but Chris Redfield would go down fighting.  
  
"Claire." he told her. "Run."  
  
"No." she said, standing steadfast. "If you think that I'm leaving, then you can just fuck off."  
  
"Claire, I said run!"  
  
"And I said fuck off!"  
  
Wesker watched this little exchange with a small smile. Wesker knew Chris was afraid for Claire. He had just given Wesker a glaring weak spot.  
  
/If that miracle's coming, I need it NOW./  
  
As if on cue, William Birkin appeared from around a corner. And for the first time, Wesker showed surprise - a flicker of an eyebrow, a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth, but still an emotion.  
  
"William."  
  
"Albert. You look well." Birkin gave his former colleague a small smile. Was this a miracle, or something even worse? 


	13. Back in Black

"Ohh..." Cassandra Spencer's eyelids fluttered weakly. There were beautiful colours spinning wildly inside her skull, scarlet and gold and violet all flashing together furiously. There was also an odd drumbeat of a song going on inside her head. But when the real world came rushing in, the song faded and the colours vanished.  
  
"Cassandra?! CASSANDRA!" Catherine sounded hysterical.  
  
"I don't bloody want to go to school." the younger girl muttered. "We're not *doing* anything today anyways."  
  
"School?" Hojo asked. "What school."  
  
Hojo? The world and reality snapped back into focus and Cassandra sat up.  
  
"Where's Cora?! Where's Alexia? I need to find them. I need to..." she tried to sit up, but Catherine was suddenly towering over her.  
  
"No."  
  
"No?!"  
  
"Yes. I said no. You need rest. Who will help me out in the labs if you die."  
  
"I'll scream!"  
  
"I'll have Hojo gag you!" she threatened. "You - are - my - younger - sister. Rest."  
  
Pale blue eyes met dark blue in a defiant glare, then finally, Cassandra settled back down, glaring.  
  
"Fine." she said. "I'll rest." as though it had been her decision. Catherine gave a satisfied nod.  
  
"I'm going to try to find some form of communication. You sit tight."  
  
*  
  
"Dr. Birkin, this is a most unexpected turn of events. Perhaps you'd care to explain your current situation?"  
  
Cora let out a whimper, tried to push herself to her hands and knees, and faltered , falling back into a crumpled heap. No one cared. The Redfields were taking full advantage of the appearance of the scrawny scientist who was holding Wesker's attention, edging towards the ventelation duct.  
  
"Ah, well, you see... um..." William responded, shuffling slightly. Wesker had always gotten on his nerves when he pulled his poker face, and this was no exception.  
  
/He used to know when employees were lying to him. He probably sees right through me./  
  
"And I could ask how you are doing yourself? I hope the virus I made is working out for you.."  
  
If that bothered Albert any, he did not show it. Birkin wondered how the man could stay so cool and self-posessed.  
  
Suddenly, Chris moved swiftly, tearing the duct cover off and moving inside the vents. His sister followed just as smoothly.  
  
"Goddamnit!" cursed Birkin. His revenge - gone! Wesker did not seem surprised.  
  
Instead, his comrade merely raised an eyebrow and looked smug.  
  
"We have to catch them!" maybe they were on the same side, if only until their agendas went different ways.  
  
"You go ahead. I'd like to have a little... fun." Wesker's head tilted to look at the latin girl laying on the ground.  
  
Birkin nodded and ran off, labcoat flapping wildly behind him.  
  
*  
  
"Please ... no." Cora groaned weakly as she felt herself be hefted up. No matter how badly her body ached, she had still heard every word of the previous conversation. And despite the fact that she was no super genius like Birkin was, she understood that Wesker's fun wouldn't be a very good game for her.  
  
"Broken already?" Wesker mused. She winced - the smell of his virus, the pugnent smell, filled her nostrils. The only thing that made his different than that of the zombies was a sour undertone, like spoiled milk. She screwed her eyes shut like a child.  
  
He smiled as he seized her arm, twisting it back.  
  
/It's going to break. He's going to break my limbs. No! No!/  
  
He kept on twisting it back. But still, the bone had not broke. She cautiously opened one eye, then stared. Her arm was twisted in a way that human arms were never meant to bend, a sick parody of the human anatomy. But there was no pain. Not even a twinge of discomfort.  
  
The only sign of surprise that Wesker gave was that his gaze lingered on the arm for far too long. He let go of her - and his boot took her in the gut. If she had not already vomited, she might have then. Stars danced before her vision, air was driven out of her lungs, and she was on her back.  
  
"Oh... god..." she gasped. A God that had probably forsaken her. The old Bible verse. 'The Lord is my sheperd, I shall not want.' Well, there was little chance of her going to Heaven. The only solution to that problem was to stay alive.  
  
Before the boot could come crashing down on her ribcage, Cora rolled to the side and sprang to her feet. It shouldn't have been possible for her to move so fluidly in her weakened state, but she did.  
  
"What runs through your veins, Miss Merandez?" He caught the fist hurtling towards his shortribs easily. The words were civil, and the tone was civil. "What virus runs in you?"  
  
She went cold with fear. He knew. He knew. He knew and he was going to kill her. She was very close to going back into hysteria, to breaking into an insane cackle or bursting into tears again. But if she lost her mind, then she would most certainly die.  
  
Desperation gave her the edge that she needed to tear away from his iron grip, to turn around and attempt to run. She knew it was futile, but she knew nothing else to do.  
  
She ran down the hall without interruption. For a moment, there was only fear. Then hope.  
  
/I'm going to live. He's letting me go. He knows I'm not worth it. Yes! Yes!/  
  
She skidded to a stop. Albert Wesker was lounging against the doors she had been racing for, watching her. He was amused.  
  
/He's playing with me. Cat and mouse./  
  
Cora turned to Wesker.  
  
"I don't feel like playing games with you." she told him. "Just kill me now, then." She could feel the daggers against her arms quite clearly. She could get close to him, and then stab him in the heart. Not even he could survive that.  
  
"Miss Merandez, why should I oblige you in such a request when it would be infinately more fun to see you suffer?"  
  
Cora broke into a cold sweat. He meant that. And this time, she would be very lucky to get away. Her knees trembled, but still, she ran forward, daggers sliding into her hands. The steel scored a long line down his arm, blood welling up in the long cut. He did not show any sign of pain, merely hit her again. This time, much harder.  
  
The last thing she heard was the crackling of the radio at his waist, then everything went black. 


	14. Pretty Girls Make Graves

A/N : Thanks to Captain for betaing, and to Shak for being cool, and to Ramen for the same reason. Sorry about the delay. Xoxo, Cass  
  
"C'mon, Claire!" Claire was lagging behind, staring at a zombie that had two heads.  
  
"Where are we going?" Claire demanded, but she picked up speed.  
  
"To the city." It would be easier for them to hide in a city. She didn't seem to agree with this choice - she had told him about the hell that Raccoon City had turned into before, but she followed anyways.  
  
"Chris." she said softly. "Are you sure you want to do this?"  
  
"The city will be safe."  
  
Chris just wished that he didn't feel he was bringing his baby sister into a nightmare.  
  
/It's the only way. Wesker and Birkin are back there. How is Birkin alive, any way? Claire told me he injected himself with his own virus./  
  
He skidded to a stop as he entered the city. Thin plumes of smoke rose from buildings that were predominantly charred and blacked. The air hung heavy with smog and ash, the pollution a testiment to the aftermath of utter destruction  
  
Somewhere off in the distance, a Hunter let out a throat ripping shriek. Except it was amplified a thousand times over. A building shook violently for a moment, then silence.  
  
Claire was staring wide eyed at the building, hands shaking.  
  
"What the hell was that?!" she finally gasped. "It sounded like a Hunter except... no Hunter could be *that* big."  
  
Chris wasn't so sure about that. Jill had told him about something called the Yawn, a giant snake that had killed his teammate, Richard Aiken. It wouldn't surprise him if they had made a Hunter large enough into that building. It was the type of dazzlingly stupid thing Umbrella would do.  
  
"Let's just move on. We'll find some transportation and get the hell out of here, then alert our friends in the government. Anonymously, of course."  
  
Having a course of action seemed to comfort Claire, because she nodded.  
  
"We'd cover more ground if we split up." her voice was brave, her eyes were filled with fear. Chris shook his head.  
  
"And let Wesker get to one of us alone? No way. We're sticking together, Claire. Now c'mon, let's go."  
  
They wandered aimlessly around the streets. Suddenly, a light came into Claire's eyes.  
  
"Chris. Look!"  
  
There was a tall building, what had once been a beautiful building. But the paint was now chipped and cracked, the windows shattered. But as Chris's gaze travelled up, he suddenly felt relief and joy drop into his stomach.  
  
An empty helicopter, a HCF pilot twiddling his thumbs inside. For the first time, Chris grinned.  
  
"If we go quickly, then we can get this place destroyed with Wesker, Birkin, and those Umbrella assholes still inside." Chris said gleefully. Claire gave a delighted laugh, and they dashed off together.  
  
*  
  
The blond woman in front of them was laughing, and there was more than just a note of insanity in there. It was a witch's cackle, mocking and full of triumph.  
  
Watts had called for Wesker long ago. Watts practically worshipped Wesker. If he had a heart, it was made of ice. Watts longed for that status, to have men and women cower with fear and beg for mercy at his grip. And Wesker had that power. So, he would be able to take down this mad woman in front of them.  
  
It had started out well enough, her elaborate labcoat had had an Umbrella stiched on it, so they had surrounded her and told her to get her hands into the air.  
  
She had responded by shooting fire out of her wrists. He had lost two men right away, and two more straight after that. He and his remaining companions had fled, but she had tracked them down. And now she was about to kill Watts and the other two.  
  
He fired at the tall blonde, but the bullets merely melted into the shimmering air. Watts let out a roar, then lunged at Alexia. He'd be damned if he ran from a woman.  
  
She gave another laugh, and seized a handful of Watts' hair. He growled and seized her wrist with both hands. At this, the amusement on the beautiful woman's face vanished.  
  
"You dare ... dare lay your hands upon me?! You are not worthy!"  
  
Robert Watts widened his eyes in surprise for only a minute as blood trickled on him. Then thought ceased as he turned into an inferno.  
  
Alexia stared distastefully at the charred corpse at her feet. She felt the need to bathe. To have her skin dirtiesd by the touch of one of those pitiful mongrels... she turned around. Albert Wesker was staring at her, a slight frown on his face. She was not sure whether it was a frown, it could just have easily been the shadows playing on his face. The sun was setting.  
  
"I see you've killed my men." Wesker's voice said clearly that he did not care. Good. The last thing Alexia needed was to deal with someone trying to get their revenge. Wesker could pose a slight challenge, and no need to exert herself further than she had today. She put a manicured hand on her pack filled with the viruses that she had picked up around Uranium City. Some of them were useless. Others had potential.  
  
"I have." Alexia said, her voice chiming cooly. "I hope that shan't be a source of consternation to you..."  
"I want those viruses."  
  
"Now now Albert, there really is no need to be so uncouth..." She shook her head slowly. "These belong to me. You appear to have a certain degree of obtuseness concerning matters of possession, if I remember correctly. Anxious to get our fingers burned, are we?"  
  
If that had had any affect on the blond man, he showed no notice. He would not like being reminded of his failure against Alexia, though. They stared at each other. Wesker was unpredictable, so Alexia was on her guard. She figured that they were equal in strength, but he was faster. And he knew about her fire blood.  
  
Then, suddenly, she had an idea.  
  
"We are BOWs." Alexia said, gliding towards Wesker. He was the one on his guard now. "Why kill each other in a vain battle? I will make you a deal."  
  
"What's this deal?" Wesker was obviously disbelieving.  
  
"I give you one of the viruses, and we don't attack each other for the rest of this little mission." she gave a cold smile. "I'll let you finish your petty little battle with Redfield. But you let me carry out my own agenda."  
  
"Fine." Wesker said. She knew that he would break that promise in a second if it suited his own needs. But he knew that it was the same for her. She merely nodded, then reached into her pouch and gave him one of the useless viruses. He did not need to know that it was useless, though. She gave him a cool, icy nod, then glided off into the city. This won her a bit more time to be about what she needed to do. So little time.  
  
*  
  
Catherine tiptoed anxiously through the city. Some of the BOWs hunted by sound.  
  
/I want to be back in the labs! I cannot believe I ever wanted to go on a mission./  
  
She stumbled over a corpse and got to her feet, sniffling back tears.  
  
/I'm afraid. It's cold./  
  
At first, she thought that she was dreaming when she heard a loud whirring noise. A helicopter rose up into the sky, HCF markings clear on it. Yet even with her specks smudged and dirty, she could tell that the figures inside the helicopter was not HCF.  
  
"HEY!" she shouted angrily, jumping up and down and waving her arms. "GET BACK HERE, YOU CRETINS! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME BEHIND! I'M CATHERINE SPENCER!"  
  
The whoops and cheers coming from the copter, however faintly, showed that if they had heard her they did not care. Catherine let out an anguished scream.  
  
She was on her own again. 


	15. Left With A Jigsaw

Catherine made her way to a building that was small, squat, and drab. She didn't think that there would be any of the Infected inside, but she still held her gun in front of her in shaking hands. She nudged open the door and peered inside.  
  
A small lab table, a chair that had been pushed back hastily, and a dirty window. Uranium City was a ghost town in reality, now. Suddenly she heard curses on the street as a man reached the same realization that she had - that the helicopter was gone. Catherine froze, then peered out the window. William Birkin was on the street, staring angrily at the horizon.  
  
Flooded with relief, she rushed out onto the street.  
  
"Dr. Birkin!" she called. He gave her a surprised look.  
  
"Spencer. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Looking for a phone." Catherine turned slightly pink. "I bought a quarter." Birkin merely nodded, then turned his full attention to her. "I can't wait to call Uncle Oswell. He'll be worried." she fretted about for a second, peering to see if she had missed a phone in the small one roomed building.  
  
He suddenly frowned, then a small smile appeared on his face.  
  
"Yes." he said. "Oswell is your uncle, isn't he?"  
  
"Um. Yes, Dr. Birkin."  
  
There was an odd look in his eyes. She did not recognize it. She had the utmost respect for Dr. Birkin - he was a genius, and the G-Virus had been a stroke of brilliance. But there was also mystery surrounding him in a way - she supposed that other women would find that attractive.  
  
"So um... shall we go?" she asked.  
  
"Yes." Birkin confirmed with a nod.  
  
"Wake up Cora, or I'll give you a wet willy." A familiar voice came out of the blackness. Cora muttered something that didn't even have a vowel in it. A sigh came from above, and then something wet and cold was in her ear. "WET WILLY!" cried the voice joyously.  
  
"AUGH!" Cora jolted awake, but the weight on the stomach was holding her down. Salven was sitting on her chest, a grin on his ace and his finger in her ear. A finger wet with saliva. "Salven, get off of me or I'll disconnect your arms from your sockets."  
  
"You can't do that."  
  
"Oh, really?" Cora said, narrowing her eyes. He scrambled off of her.  
  
"Fine, Virus-Girl. Go right ahead." Salven said sulkily. She got to her feet, sighing. She had nearly forgotten about the virus. She rubbed her neck; it still twinged slightly from the syringe.  
  
"Don't call me that." she snapped, then frowned. "Where are Hojo and the Spencer kids?"  
  
"Cathy took off."  
  
"Goddamnit!" Cora swore angrily, raising her fist as if to slam it into the wall. She ended up shoving her hands angrily into her pockets instead. "Did Cass and Hojo leave too?"  
  
"Cass is still around. So's Hojo. The guy's an idiot."  
  
"Shush."  
  
The two Umbrella soldiers were interrupted by Cass and Hojo coming over. Cass was cursing under her breath, Hojo looked bright as usual.  
  
"Hi." he greeted the two. "Um... you're fine, right, Cora?"  
  
"No thanks to you." she snapped. Hojo looked hurt. Well, fine, let him be hurt! She didn't care. She sighed again, then left. Cass was still cursing. The others followed her, but she didn't know where she was going.  
  
/I wish Scythe was here./ She thought, then dismissed it immidately. He'd shoot her. She was the next thing to a zombie, after all.  
  
"Is Alexia still around?" Cora tried to sound calm, but she could not stop herself from shuddering slightly. Salven responded.  
  
"Nah, I fought her off."  
  
"Salven, you locked yourself in a broom closet." Hojo blinked.  
  
"Shut up! I'm trying to score points with Cora!"  
  
"You shut up! It's not nice to lie!"  
  
"Both of you shut up!" Cassandra snapped irritably. Cora wondered if she had what it took to shoot Salven. But he probably wouldn't even shut up then.  
  
Alanna was thirsty and hungry. She strained against her bonds for the thousandth time. She groaned as the heavy steel door swung open. It had blocked all her screams, so it had to be that awful blond man.  
  
This time it was not a blond man, but a woman instead. She could have been a twin to the man, with long blond hair and a sneer on her ruby red lips.  
  
She pranced over, peering into Alanna's face with that horrible sneer.  
  
"You inferior worker ant." she sneered. Alanna spat on her face.  
  
"I want Gabe now." she howled, half-mad with fear and rage. She knew that it was a stupid thing to do. She didn't care. The woman's face contorted into rage, and she jerked back angrily.  
  
"You ... dare?" With a manicured hand, she seized a handful of pale hair and tugged in irritation. "You dare speak to your superior that way, girl?!" the voice was becoming more shrill, and less elegent. "You imbicile!" she released her hair and backhanded Alanna. Then suddenly, the hair , slipped back ... to show a patch of stubble.  
  
"You're a man!" Alanna blurted. "You're ..." She had been worn away to nothing but nerves and hysteria, so she burst into giggles. With a snarl, the man seized a needle and rammed it into her forearm.  
  
"You won't tell anyone about this if you're a zombie." the man gave a high pictured giggle.  
  
"Gabe!" Alanna shrieked. She was infected, but her big brother could save her. He always had. He had always protected her and he would come now to save her. Her body began to convulse violently, and terror went through her. "Gabe, please! Gabe!" she screamed, then fell back limply. She did not struggle again.  
  
"There are terrorists in Uranium City." Chris said into the phone. He kept his voice low - they were at a payphone, and he didn't want to attract attention.  
  
"Terrorists?" An astonished voice replied. "What proof do you -"  
  
"Just burn it down to the ground!" Chris responded harshly. "You have to destroy it, with missiles. Now!" and then he slammed the phone down. Claire burst into giggles.  
  
"You do a horrible tough guy impression."  
  
"Hey." Chris turned to her and ruffled his little sister's hair. "Sorry we didn't find Steve."  
  
Claire turned pink and turned away, and Chris regretted saying it immidately.  
  
"Come on." he said instead. "Let's go home. Have a bit of a vacation. I think we need it." 


	16. Morality and Architechure

The streets of Uranium City were narrow and dusty, and the squat buildings that had been built in the thirties contrasted sharply with the few taller buildings where Umbrella had renovated to suit their tastes.  
  
Rubble crunched underneath Cora's feet, and she stopped and sighed. It was a rag-tag little band that she led. Hojo and Salven had burst into another argument - (Don't say that about my mother, you asshole! She's in California, how is that even POSSIBLE?!) - and Cassandra was looking terrified and pale and trying her best to pretend that she wasn't.  
  
"What's wrong?" Cassandra asked. She was holding her gun sideways, in an imitation of the movies. Despite the long hours that she spent at the shooting range, Cassandra was not cut out for combat. At least she wasn't as bad as Catherine. Running off to find a pay phone? Cora sighed again.  
  
"Nothing." Cora admitted. She glanced around, then admitted to Cassandra in a low voice : "Okay. I'm just a tad bit edgy because I have a fucking virus in me and I can't even do anything cool. It's not fair."  
  
Cassandra pondered this for a little bit.  
  
"We could always inject you with another virus and let you grow tentacles?" Cass asked grinning.  
  
"Not funny."  
  
"Well, I think that tentacles would be very useful." Cass lowered her gun then peered down a side street. Her grin grew wider. "Hey! Catherine! Catherine!"  
  
"Oh, thank God!" blurted Cora. If either of the Spencer girls even got a scratch on them, then she had a feeling that it would be better to hand herself over to Wesker then go home. Cora sped around the corner, following Cassandra. Hojo and Salven had no choice but to follow, still bickering.  
  
Catherine Spencer was indeed there, with William Birkin. To Cora's surprise, Catherine was blushing and looking at her feet.  
  
/Catherine? Blushing? I don't know what's weirder - this or the monsters around here./  
  
"Catherine?" Cass strode up to her sister. "Anything wrong?"  
  
Catherine glared at the others before whispering something in her sister's ear. Cass giggled and nodded, and Catherine resumed her icy compusure.  
  
"The Redfields left."  
  
"Goddamnit!" Salven punched his palm. "Even the girl? Damn!"  
  
"Oh no." Hojo said sadly. "There's strength in numbers and..."  
  
Catherine rode right over Hojo without even waiting for him to finish speaking. "The Redfields are trouble makers and they always destroy cities and valuable labs and ... and ... and that's evil!" she finished dramatically.  
  
"You won't see me crying if this place is blown up." Cora shrugged.  
  
"Miss Merandez," Birkin said in a condescending way. "I doubt that the Redfield siblings will wait for us to leave the city before destroying it."  
  
Salven chuckled at Cora turning pink.  
  
"So can we leave Hojo the Friendly Retard here tied to a pole?" Salven asked. Hojo socked him in the shoulder. "Ow!"  
  
Birkin gave Catherine a look that was obviously meant just for her. His body language was obvious 'These people are morons'. Cora scowled.  
  
/Since when were they all friendly? They hate people! They're not sociable!/  
  
The cave seemed to be shrinking. Tweek was shifting irritably back and forth, Foxx was asleep, and Ada was typing away. She had managed to get a connection back up, but it went down periodically and squandered any chance of communcation.  
  
And Scythe wanted to get out of this place. It was night, and he couldn't sleep. His legs were cramped from sitting still for so long, and his nerves were badly frayed.  
  
The fires made to keep zombies off were crackling loudly, and Tweek's soft humming was growing steadily more annoying when coupled with the constant clacking of Ada's keyboard.  
  
Suddenly, soft footsteps made their way to the cave. Ducking around the fires, Alexia Ashford entered the cave, a soft smile on her face. She did not seem phased by the fact that they had all swung their guns to point at her.  
  
"Where is everyone? What's been going on?" Scythe asked tersely.  
  
"The remainder of your comrades are presently located in Uranium City." Alexia glanced disdainfully at Ada. "I suceeding in finding a veriable source of transportation. A jet."  
  
"Why are you wasting your kindness on us?" Scythe asked a bit irritably. He paused. "My apologies, Dr. Ashford. It's been a long night." He didn't like having to accept help from this woman. She was too smug.  
  
Alexia did not answer, merely wove her way out. She paused at the mouth of the cave.  
  
"Get into the jet. I will go and retrieve the others." and Alexia left. Tweek scowled after her.  
  
"Bitch." he pronounced.  
  
"Foxx, help Tweek get to the jet. Ada, you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine." she said, getting to her feet gladly. Scythe still scowled to himself. There had to be some plan that Alexia was hatching. But what? 


	17. The Ending of the Beginning

The group had retreated to the small, one room lab to wait. Catherine, Cora, and Cassandra were all on the verge of losing their heads. They showed it in different ways, though. Catherine had her eyes screwed shut tightly and was whimpering different formulas under her breath. Cora's eyes were wide and she was blinking the tears away quickly. And Cassandra was cracking corny jokes and wearing an inane grin that just wasn't natural.  
  
Birkin, Hojo, and Salven were under control though. They had been under the least pressure, and were all fairly confident. Birkin figured that his intellectual superiority and whatever super powers he had could take any monster out. Hojo didn't seem to realize the dangers beyond keeping Catherine safe.  
  
So they waited inside the little one room hovel. Catherine forgot herself enough to began to tinker with the microscope and samples. Hojo suddenly leant over his shoulder.  
  
"Catherine?" he asked, sounding extremely nervous. "Um... after this is over, do you want to go out?"  
  
She gave him a cold stare, and for a moment he looked like he was about to flee. But he stammered out "You know, on a date."  
  
"A date with you?" Catherine gave a haughty, derisive laugh. Her self confidence was back in full. If she couldn't deal with monsters, she could at least deal with this cretin. "Ha! I would rather go unarmed out into that cacophony! I am the most promising young researcher in Umbrella, and I have far better things to do with my time then deal with an idiot like you who probably is lacking in enough intelligence to TIE HIS OWN SHOES!"  
  
He stared at her, dumbstruck. Then his head swiveled to see Birkin, who was laughing softly. His face turned a ruddy red, and he turned to swing the door open and stalk out.  
  
Before he could leave, Alexia Ashford swept in. Cora gave a shout of surprise, swinging the gun up and firing twice. Alexia calmly sidestepped.  
  
The air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Why was Alexia here? What was her plans?  
  
"So, you still entertain thoughts of avenging that insensate urchin?" Alexia sneered. Cora was shaking with rage. With a howl, she flung herself at Alexia. Cassandra caught her arm, Salven caught the other one. Cora still tried to break lose. She was screaming, barely comprehensible.  
  
"And I could kill you, too. But ... I've found a form of transporation. Follow me. Time is of the essence." and she calmly swept out again.  
  
"Do we follow?" Cassandra asked. "We could leave." she glanced at Cora. "Cora, I know you're mad at her, but... we might die, and if we die, then you'll never get revenge."  
  
"I'll kill her. I'll kill her, then I'll take the jet!" Cora snapped.  
  
"Cora, I'm the BOW expert. Seeing how I've never had the T-Veronica under a microscope, I don't know exactly what it can do..." Cassandra grimaced at that, "but I know that if you try to take her on, she'll win."  
  
Cora mulled over this, but then finally nodded. Catherine thought that her sister was being rather naive. The idiot would probably ruin Catherine's chances for escape the first chance that she'd get! Catherine didn't care about revenge. She just wanted to go back to the lab and go back to her normal life.  
  
A girl her age's definition of a normal life probably would have been giggling empty headed over the latest sports team star, using inane terms like 'dreamy'. Catherine's life was the lab. That was all she needed. And as soon as she got back to the lab, then she would never go on one of these foolhardy missions again. But if anyone got in the way of her escape... Catherine grimaced.  
  
"Can we leave yet?" she asked irritably, then strode out of the room. Cassandra, Birkin, Salven, and Hojo all followed. Cora was a couple of strides behind them, murder printed clearly on her face. Alexia was already halfway down the street, gliding along as if the corpses on the street were not there and as if she were deaf to the growls and howls of the monsters. Catherine didn't care about the corpses - if you were dead, you were dead - but the noises made her nervous.  
  
Cassandra suddenly screamed as a corpse hauled itself to his feet. It was missing half a face, but it's jaw still hung open hungrily. It also had some sort of a rash spread over it's body, red but with white upraised hives. Every once in a while, one of these white domes would burst, sending out a thin vapor of a purple mist.  
  
Cassandra let out another scream. She fumbled for her gun, but her eyes were stuck to the monstrosity lurching towards her.  
  
"Cassie!" Catherine shouted. "Kindly shoot the monster, and let's go!" Despite her harsh words, her tone was not unkind. "Cassie?" Catherine's sister was shaking all over, and her hands were fumbling over the gun, but she could not tear her eyes away.  
  
A knife burrowed itself into the side of the zombie's head, and it let out a confused 'Grauh?'. Cora had another knife slip out of her sleeve and into her hand. The distraction was enough for Cassandra to finally snap to her senses and to finish off the monster.  
  
"Christ on a skateboard!" she blurted, staring at the body of the monster.  
  
"Watch your language, Cassie!" Catherine admonished. Cassandra gave her a flat look, then hurried after the others. The jet now loomed in view. Cora's face tightened, and for a moment she looked as though she would attempt to stab Alexia in the back.  
  
"Cora, I hope that you aren't planning to stab me." Alexia stopped in her tracks. Cora stopped as well, staring.  
  
"How the hell..." Cora blurted. Alexia turned around, a small knowing smile on her mouth.  
  
"You really think that I would let one of my assets run about, whilst I have no idea what it is planning?!"  
  
Catherine hoped Cora was bright enough to realize that she wasn't going to win against Alexia now that the woman knew what Cora was thinking. Alexia's knowing smile never flickered at Cora's anger. "In that virus was a little ... something ... to create a bond between us. However, due to Birkin's idiocy, it only goes one way." she spat Birkin's name distatefully, those lips curling into a sneer. "You see, I can sense your neuromuscular activity."  
  
Cora, being the cretin that she was, merely blinked. The comment made no sense to her.  
  
"It means that she can tell, to an extent, what you're about to do." Cassandra explained. She had gotten over the shock of that monster quite nicely, at first glance. But her eyes were big and full of worry. She also had her hands clenched into fists. She was furious. She had grown attached, some how, to the Merandez girl. Catherine wondered why. The girl was useless at anything important in life.  
  
Cora's eyes flickered to Alexia, then to Catherine, then to the others. Hojo was staring at her as though he had never seen her before, Salven had an odd look on his face, and Alexia was still smug. Cora took a slow step towards Alexia, then another.  
  
Now Cora was nearly right in front of Alexia. She gave the older woman a cautious look - then her fist was swinging towards the Ashford. Alexia calmly caught it.  
  
"Now, Cora." She said, almost jovially. "I had hoped that you possessed the merest sliver of cognition required to prevent such a foolish course of action. Oh well." and then she returned a hit of her own, a short clip above the woman's ear. Cora crumpled to the ground with a small cry. "There. That should make the trip easier."  
  
Cassandra looked for a moment as if that she would try to take down Alexia, but she merely swallowed and studied her feet. At least she had more sense than Cora. Alexia led them inside of the jet, dropping Cora down in the back.  
  
Armed men and a woman sat in the front seats, and worry painted their faces.  
  
"Is Cora okay?" a woman asked her.  
  
"What happened out there?"  
  
"Catherine, Cassandra... you guys okay?"  
  
Catherine merely sat down, sniffing and pulling her hair out of her face.  
  
"Cora was ..." Catherine sat, then was cut off as Cass hit her in the arm.  
  
"We're fine, don't worry. Now ... if we can get home?" and she flashed a brilliant smile at the others, somewhat lacking by her tired face. Catherine grimaced, rubbing her arm.  
  
"You didn't have to hit me."  
  
"We won't tell anyone about any of this." Cassandra said. "We're Cora's friends. If you tell, then I'll break your microscope." Catherine sullenly nodded. 


	18. Mother

Alfred sat nervously in the lab. He had not known what to do after he infected the girl, so he simply sat by her day by night. Alexia had just said that he couldn't kill her. Not that he couldn't infect her. That would be okay, right? She had shown defiance to an Ashford! She had had to be killed! It was necessary!  
  
Somehow, Alfred knew Alexia wouldn't see it that way. He whimpered. As if in sympathy, the zombie beside him gave a groan. Of course, the zombie actually couldn't feel any emotion.  
  
/Alexia's gonna kill you./ a nervous voice said inside his head.  
  
"Of course she is. I deserve it." Alfred said outloud. "You made me do it though. This is your fault!" That was directed to the zombie.  
  
"Do what, Alfred?"  
  
He froze. Alexia was back. Just entering the lab, but when she saw ... he glanced at the zombie and began to shake. Alexia had no mercy, and when she saw what he had done... it was all his fault, of course, and Alexia would be perfectly right to hand out any punishment that he no doubt deserved. But he was still terrified.  
  
She stormed into the lab, skirts swishing furiously about her ankles.  
  
"I - hate - William Birkin!" she screamed.  
  
He gave a sympathetic nod, eager to please. Anything for his Alexia. Alexander, that worthless fool, had often berated her, calling her a child at heart no matter how old she grew. Alexander had often warned her to straighten up and act straight, despite Alexia's fury at these speeches. Well, they had taken care of that worthless fool.  
  
And while she had been been as mature as most people twice her age when she was froze, she still had missed out on some of life's lessons during those long years in the freezer, one of them being that some people were out to screw even an Ashford over. Even with the whole Redfield incident, she still had no realized that.  
  
"That insolent cretin thinks he can just foil my carefully laid plans..." Alexia exhaled hard, her speech cutting off sharply, as she laid eyes on what was left of Alanna Turnbull. Her rage disappeared to the untrained eye, but Alfred knew her well enough to realize that she was just in control of it.  
  
Alexia flying off the handle was terrifying enough, but not as scary as Alexia in cold blood. At least when she was in a rage you could hope that your punishment would be quick and easy.  
  
When it came to a dangerous situation, Alfred had four choices -  
  
1. Kill whoever caused the problem and their supporters, then kill the witnesses.  
  
2. Rely on Alexia to cake care of it.  
  
3. Leave the problem alone for a later time.  
  
4. Panic.  
  
Choice 1 would not work, neither would 2, nor 3. So Alfred resorted to choice four.  
  
"Alexia!" he whined. "Mercy. Please. She made me do it. Please!"  
  
She gave him a cold stare, then casually backhanded.  
  
"Fool." she spat. "I will take care of this concern later. I have more important matters to intend to. Spencer wants an account of the Uranium City expedition from the Head Scientist." Alexia gave a sly smile. Alfred smiled as well. If his sister was up to something, then she would succeed, and that would no doubt sooth her and take her attention off Alfred's blunder.  
  
"Good luck, 'Lexia." he said. Surprisingly, she gave him a rueful smile. She very rarely smiled, even at him. She must be very confident about this report to Spencer.  
  
"I do not need your well wishing." she said briskly, "You just dispose of that corpse."  
  
"Yes, Alexia."  
  
She nodded regally, turned, and swept from the room.  
  
When Salven had returned, they had been more than glad to return him to the position of Trainer and slap him heartily on the back a few times. So he figured that it'd probably be for the greater good if he refrained from telling them that he had met up with two of Umbrella's greatest enemies and decided to let them go.  
  
They were picky like that, Umbrella really were. He rubbed the list of orders that he had been given between his thumb and forefinger, then turned around to face his class, a group of three or four people. Cora was standing on the far left.  
  
"Alright." Salven said. "Everyone who has a mother, step forward. Not so fast there, Cora."  
  
He was extremely pleased with himself for thinking up such a great way to tell someone their mother was dead. He had read it in a MAD magazine.  
  
She stopped, staring at him.  
  
"What the hell do you mean, Salven? I have a mother."  
  
"Correction - you had a mother."  
  
She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether he was serious or not.  
  
"Look, Cora, just because I'm wearing my 'I fuck on the first date' shirt doesn't mean I'm lying. Look, I'll go comfort you. In your room."  
  
She was staring there, wobbling slightly on the spot.  
  
"You're serious." she said flatly.  
  
He nodded. For a moment, her face turned pale, and she looked very old. Then she merely walked out, face pale and drawn.  
  
"I need a drink." Salven said. His students stared at him blankly. "Uh, don't tell Spencer, okay? Do um... jumping jacks or something."  
  
He brushed hair out of his eyes and strode out with a sigh.   
  
Wesker was slightly more irritated than normal as he stepped outside of the front doors to the HCF headquarters. He had just recieved results on the virus that Alexia had given him. It was useless. It wasn't much of a surprise, but it was still enough for him to wish that he could meet up with Alexia again. There would be no more deals the next time that happened.  
  
"Ashford." he muttered under his breath. How had the woman come back from the dead, anyway? The short redhead a couple of paces behind him was watching him, green eyes slightly curious.  
  
He wasn't surprised by this development, nor too angered by it. It was just the fact that the whole Uranium City escapade had been a big waste of time. He wanted to do something of some importance, to be able to be in his element.  
  
Hopefully, something came along soon. He liked to be in control of things. He was aware of the weight of the Desert Eagle in it's holster. He didn't need it, but it could come in handy sometimes.  
  
Everything would be in his control. Soon enough.  
  
The major players of Umbrella all sat around a large mahogany table. Cassandra Spencer, sans baggy t-shirt for once, was wearing a black deep neck cardigan and looking very uncomfortable. Catherine was wearing her lab coat, a nervous smile playing on her lips.  
  
"William's going to be here."  
  
"William?" Cassandra stared at him. "You and Slavedriver Birkin are on a first name basis?"  
  
"There's nothing wrong with being a competant supervisor." Catherine said haughtily.  
  
"D'you think that Birkin will be attracted to the bits of organ on your sleeve?" Cassandra grinned, tugging at the collar of the cardigan. Catherine flushed slightly, glaring at her sister.  
  
Birkin and Alexia sat at seperate ends of the table, and were alternating between glaring at each other and wrapping themselves in icy disdain. That surprised Cassandra, she had thought that the two would be more mature. Alfred stood behind Alexia.  
  
Lord Spencer himself sat next to Alexia, the very picture of superiority.  
  
"Alexia Ashford has submitted a report of the Uranium City incident..." Spencer began. Birkin snorted.  
  
"Right, and I'm sure it's a factual account." he said. Alexia bristled.  
  
"Alexia shouldn't be trusted!" Cassandra said, her voice not a shout, but very close. "She infected Cora!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Cassandra." Spencer said softly. "But it's her word against yours.  
  
Cassandra felt furious for a moment.  
  
"She's a liar!" Her voice was high now, and angry. "You can't believe her over me, Uncle ! Please!"  
  
"Cassandra, sit down or you will be removed." he was all steel again, eyes cold chips of eyes. Cassandra sat down. Alexia laughed, a cool uncaring chime.  
  
"I am surprised that you allow children to attend these matters, Spencer."  
  
"Untrue." Birkin said. Alexia frowned at him as he continued. "The Spencer girls contribute in their own ways." He glanced and Catherine, and she flushed and gave a noise suspiciously like a giggle, before turning his head back to Oswell with a triumphant smile.  
  
Spencer did not seem to know how to react to this, so he just scowled.  
  
"The next order of business..." Spencer began. But whatever the second order of business was, no one got to find out, as the door opened and Cora Merandez peeked in.  
  
"Um," she said in a wobbly voice. "Am I interrupting anything?"  
  
Alexia had a look of renewed interest in her eyes.  
  
"What is it?" Spencer asked. He was obviously nearing the end of his rope.  
  
"I'd just like you to know that um, I'd like to take some vacation time now." Cora said meekly. She looked like a nervous breakdown about to happen.  
  
/Oh./ Cassandra thought. /I guess I shouldn't have given those orders to Salven./ 


	19. Cassandra

A small, brick bungalow awaited Cora out in the countryside. Spencer had bought it for Madeline Spencer, Cassandra and Catherine's mother. However, she was out on a cruise, so Cora got the house. Spencer had sat her down first, giving her a tongue lashing on the subjects of interrupting board meetings and taking vacation time.

She had barely noticed. She still felt... numb. She just added a 'Yes, Sir

Spencer' or 'No, Sir Spencer' or 'I'm sorry, Sir Spencer', every time

Spencer paused. Cassandra had shot her sympathetic looks all the while.

Although, when Spencer had finally left her alone, she had darted off on some mysterious errand.

Spencer seemed to accept the fact that she needed a vacation, and she was rushed there with startling speed. No doubt to stop rumours from spreading. UBSC soldiers were not meant to be seen as having a soft side.

So Cora was left, all alone, standing outside a squat brick house that was her new home. Strange, she was used to the Paris facilities now. This just seemed quiet, and boring.

The halls were empty, there was no bustle, and there was no low murmur of discussion. No gunfire, no groans of the undead, just the tick tock of the clock that Madeline Spencer kept in her kitchen. Cora felt herself looking around. How strange, how alien.

Cora was used to Paris? Used to being a soldier? Even after that mission?

It was only then that she began to cry.

vvvvvvv

Birkin strode down the halls, trying to make sure that the bundles of papers and files in his arms did not start falling. Spencer had assigned him to work on the virus injected into that Merandez girl. It had been quite satisfying to watch Alexia grudgingly produce a sample of that

virus.

Something caught and tugged at his sleeve. He turned around to see

Cassandra Spencer, looking at him with narrowed eyes. He blinked. He had never seen her angry, before.

"I know what you're up to." she said, crossing her arms. "With Catherine, and my uncle." And her tone said that she wasn't pleased with it, at all. Birkin didn't understand the fuss. It wasn't like it was affecting her personally. Personal attachments just got in the way of important matters; made people act recklessly and stupidly.

"If you end up hurting Catherine, then..." and she stopped, frowning. She had obviously never had to deal with a situation like this before.

"I'm not trying to hurt Catherine. I'm trying to hurt Spencer." he said.

Cassandra Spencer wasn't usually this blind. She let out a hiss through her teeth.

"Look. I don't agree with what my uncle did. He can be a bit ... short sighted, at times. But there's no need to pull Catherine into this, Birkin!"

She crossed her arms irritably, raising an eyebrow., then took a long deep breath. "Look, I dunno what you did to Catherine to send her into this daze -- she's babbling about you being a great scientist half the time! -- but it needs to stop. Now."

And just like that, she seemed sure that it would stop and that Birkin would apologize. She could be quite arrogant at times, actually.

"No." he said curtly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work in the lab to do." and he broke free easily from the light grip she had on his sleeve and strode away.

"You're twice her age!" Cassandra growled after him.

"Irrelevant," he sighed. Some people could be so erratic sometimes.

vvvvvvv

Alexia Ashford's ruby lips curled into a sneer as she took a long draw on her wine. Alfred was watching her, concerned. For once, he was not clinging onto her sleeve pathetically. Perhaps taking a short leave had done him some good. Instead, he was lounging in an arrogant way near the fireplace.

"Birkin again." she growled. "That insufferable cretin!"

Alfred's eyes narrowed, and he muttered curses.

"Who does he think he is?" she stood up, kicking her skirts all the way to peer out of the window. "I am Alexia Ashford, The Queen Ant! And if that insolent little boy thinks that he is my equal, then I shall be sure to correct him!"

William Birkin may have been older than Alexia, but that's all he was – a little boy. One who deserved punishment, as well. Her victory had been soured considerably by his interference. His, and that of the Spencers as well.

It had never entered her plans from being separated from the Merandez girl - Alexia needed to see what Birkin had done with that antidote, to see if the damage was irreversible. Or to find someone else to dump the work upon.. Alexia was not cut out for doing simple busy work beneath her.

Cassandra Spencer, especially, was turning out to be a nuisance. She was soft, and an idiot, but she had just enough of a glimmer of intelligence to

get in the way. Too stupid to shove aside, too powerful to ignore. Alexia briefly considered having an 'accident' occur. The girl was too nosy by half -- surely it would be accepted that she had met her timely demise at the hands of one of her own experiments. Even if Spencer did have a soft spot for the girl, and even if she was powerful, it had happened to more competent researchers than Cassandra.

Then again, corpses had a way of pointing fingers and giving clues, and not everyone would be lured as easily into her trap as that idiot Alexander had been. She didn't even think of him as her father, anymore. It shamed her to be related to that bungling fool, who had brought heaps of disdain and disrespect onto the honoured Ashford name. And now Cassandra was doing the same to Umbrella.

Suddenly, Alexia was stricken by an idea. She did have an ally, no matter how dubious her trust in him was. Albert Wesker and Alexia Ashford were aiming for a couple of the same goals, and if Wesker could give her some assistance in replacing that senile old man Spencer with the Queen Ant, then she would take it -- not that she would do him any favours, afterwards.

She turned from the window. Alfred's show of self-confidence was still holding up admirably, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

"Alfred." she said, her voice now as cool as snow now that the anger had drained from it. "I want you to perform a task for me."

"Yes?" he asked, perking up slightly.

"I want you to find me a way of contacting Albert Wesker."

Alfred inclined his head.

vvvvvvv

Cassandra felt rather giddy as she rapped on the front door to the small house. She hadn't played hooky since university. Of course, she was rather nervous. Uncle Spencer was death on her not doing her 'proper duties' about Umbrella, both in the labs and now with the added workload of being a soldier.

"Hello?" she called.

The door opened a fraction, and a gray eye peered out for a second before the door was opened all the way. For a moment, all Cassandra could do was blink in surprise. This was the hunched over, dead tired, mourning woman that had left Paris?

Cora's eyes were still dull, but the rest of her face shone. It occurred to

Cassandra that she rarely saw Cora with a smile that wasn't at someone else's expense or a sarcastic one. There was a grin of joy on Cora's face, her dark hair was brushed neatly and braided, and for once, she wasn't wearing dark clothes. She wore a pair of bright blue shorts and a matching t-shirt, as well as a white tweed hat, cocked at a jaunty angle on her head.

"Oh, it's you." Cora breathed in relief. "I thought it was going to be one of my neighbors, again."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow.

"Come in." Cora headed inside the house. Cassandra wiped her feet on the doormat dutifully and then headed inside. Cora bustled about the kitchen with a sense of purpose. It was unnerving.

"Uh, Cora, don't you think you're being a bit perky?" Cassandra said.

"No." Cora shrugged.

"I dunno about you, but if Mom and Catherine were killed, I'd probably kill someone."

"Ah. Well." for a moment, Cora shrugged uncomfortably, and her beam faded. Then she replaced it hesitantly. "Life goes on. So, what are you doing here? I expected you to be working in the labs over a zombie or something."

"I skipped out." Cassandra frowned slightly. "I just hope that kid doesn't escape or something. Last time that happened he ran down the halls in only a dressing gown, screaming bloody murder. Uncle Oswell was pissed. He came down on me like a ton of shit, but I just blamed it on someone else. It was great."

Cora gave a small smile that had no real amusement in it.

"I'm tired of the killing and the deception, Cassandra." she said, a bit gently.

"Oh. It was really cool, though."

"Let's talk about something happy."

"I thought that was happy." Cassandra blinked. She had considered it an amusing event. Earlier, Cora would have laughed about it. Obviously, the

Uranium City mission was beginning to unhinge her. "Um, Cora, you're not planning to return any time soon - are you?"

Cora's hands began to shake, and she dropped one of the glasses that she had been getting from the cupboard.

"Aah, I don't... I don't think I'm quite ready to go back." She said in a voice, high from panic. "I – I still see her face, you know, and I ... I'm not ready to go back."

Her face? Amelia? Or perhaps Alexia? Either way, what had begun as a cheery visit was quickly going downhill.

"I think I better go home." Cassandra said, and then she fled.


	20. A Shadow Over Me

Scythe figured he should be grateful for the break and not being saddled with a hysterical Cora. The way he figured, women were wired to have many settings, the two main ones being Normal and Hysterical Bitch. When they were on the second setting, it was well for anyone to stay away. He didn't deal much with women; they weren't in high regard as soldiers, but when he did he was constantly exasperated with the way they acted. They took insults to heart, pouted over the stupidest stuff, and cared about

Nonetheless, when Cassandra came back from visiting her, Scythe stopped her in the halls. Hysterical bitch or not, he wanted to know how Cora was doing. The girl had spunk, but her losses would affect anyone. Maybe a little sympathy would not be out of order.

"How's Phoenix?" he asked. Cassandra blurted out an answer that did not fulfill his curiosity.

"Oh my God, have you seen Uncle Oswell? He is going KILL ME!" She took a deep breath , giving the team leader a panicked look. "I skipped lab duty again and this guy managed to get loose and he smashed everything in there. I am going to go hide, if you see him tell him it wasn't my fault okay bye!" and then she rushed off, baggy shirt and hair streaming out behind her. He wondered if God hated him more than usual today. It was like everything he touched turned to total shit.

With this cheery thought at his back, he stalked down the halls and into the computer lab, sitting down in the chair next to Ada.

"What the hell," he asked tiredly, "is wrong with the women on this team?"

Pandora gave him a very flat look.

"Oh, thanks." she asked. "My day is just chippper, thanks Scythe." And then she turned back to her terminal. He sighed, realizing the mistake that he had just made.

"I don't mean like that." he explained patiently. "You're not like that."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow at him. "So I'm not crazy then, I assume." Her voice turned more threatening. "Or am I not a woman?"

"You're the exception." He raised his hands in a pacifying gesture

"Thanks, I guess." she grinned slightly. He gave a slight snort of laughter. She brushed a hand through her shining cap of dark hair, apparently ordering an AV cable off of an internet site. Whatever that was.

"Do you know what happened to Cora in Uranium City?" he finally asked. "Did she confide in you? You guys are pals, right?"

"No. She didn't." Ada shook her head. "Even if she had, I wouldn't have told you anyways. Secrets stay secret."

"I'm the team leader, I would like to know if one of my team is

going off the deepend."

"We're all insane here." Ada said. He wondered if she was joking or not. He decided that she was. He certainly wasn't crazy. Everyone else was, perhaps, but he was in full control of himself.

"Thanks anyways." he offered.

"Also, Scythe?"

"Yeah?"

"I did a little poking around on your hard drive, to try to clear up hard drive space." she gave him an incredibly frank look. "Let me just say that the deletion of your porn folder cleared things up, a LOT."

He felt his face turning incredibly red. "Get to the gym, do a few laps," he finally said. "And stay away from my files. I'm setting up passwords from now on."

She stood gracefully. "You think that can stop me if I want to get through?" she winked at the commander and strode out. Scythe rolled his eyes. Was every woman mental?

vvvvvvv

Cora's muscles were burning and she was exhausted as she flopped down onto the sofa. She immediately went to the tiny fridge to find that it was empty. That little gym that Madeline Spencer had put into her cottage was the only thing she could stay focused on for more than five minutes. She couldn't make it past a chapter in a book or the first commercial break of a TV show. Something was niggling in the back of her brain…

Oh, yes. That was right. You had to go shopping every morning here. What a stupid tradition. Not only was all the television in French but you had to stock up this small fridge just to buy what you needed for the day? And that meant that you had to go outside and people would talk to you. In French. It was AWFUL. Cora would stand there and stammer at them and finally manage to stammer out that she did not speak French awkwardly in the tongue she did not know.

She considered going back to the facility, where most people spoke English, but then they would send her on a mission. And she could not face that, not yet. So instead she headed out awkwardly to the market. She was hungry.

So, she timidly ventured out of the little house and made her way to the market.

"Bonjour!" the man at one of the little market stalls said to her. She was astonished at the French markets, stalls all lined up next to each other all hawking goods to sell. It reminded her of Mexico markets except for one thing. She hated it. She had left Mexico a long time ago and she wanted it to stay back there, because Mexico was mostly a time of good memories and she had had mother and Amelia.

No one spoke Spanish, they all did so in French or in broken English. So she did the best, pointing and speaking what she knew in French. As such she came away with a lot of apples and bread, she wasn't sure what anything else was called. Sometimes she would point at something, and the vendor would give her an odd look, so she quickly ceased it.

Life, she reflected alone, could be a very lonely thing without your family, and it was even lonelier when you were a B.O.W. One thing that wasn't lonely at all, however, was the constant paranoia that she felt of someone peeking over her shoulder. Alexia and that goddamn bond her virus had created.

Maybe there was a reason to go back after all.

vvvvvvvvv

Catherine Spencer looked in her small wooden mailbox on the wall and pulled out two sheets of paper. One was from Hojo, and she crumpled it up and tossed it in the waste basket. The second one was more formal.

Dr. Catherine Spencer

You have been promoted to the office of the Head Assistant to Dr. William Birkin. You are to be under this position effective now.

Regards, Umbrella Inc.

Catherine glanced at this paper for a while, who could have sent it? Didn't William have the authority? If so… she smiled to herself. She admired William very much, he was intelligent and more importantly, he was a noted scientist! He had many important advances!

Best of all, he had stuck up for her in front of that snooty Alexia Ashford. With a smile, she folded the paper in three and put it in her pocket. Her sister came up behind her.

"Hey, Cathy!" beamed Cassandra. "Have you seen Uncle Oswell?"

"Last time I saw him, he was coming down to check on you in the labs."

"Crap." Cassandra frowned deeply to herself. "He's gonna be mad at me…" she heaved her shoulders. "Hey, I have a letter!"

Cassandra Spencer.

You have been promoted to the office of the Head Assistant to Dr. Alexia Ashford. You are to be under this position effective now.

Regards, Umbrella Inc.

The younger sister stared at it, rubbed her eyes and then her mouth dropped open.

"They have me as the assistant to Alexia Ashford!" she said weakly. "That's not fair… She's going to kill me and turn me into a monster, I can just tell."

"Consider it your comeuppance, Cassie." Catherine said. "A chance to turn over a new leaf. It's not that bad."

"Yeah. At least I have more authority than you." Cassandra sighed slightly, shoulders hunched.

"Well, no, I was promoted as well." Catherine said, sounding very smug. "I'm Head Assistant to William Birkin." Catherine smiled to herself. Even though she had nothing but sympathy for her sister, she was still amazed at her turn of luck. Her sister stared at her, obviously angry at how unfair this had turned out.

"You get your loverboy and I get the Queen Bitch!" Cassandra exclaimed, perhaps more loudly than she should have, because someone cleared their throat.

"You were saying?" a soft voice said, and Alexia Ashford glided in, all serenity and ice. Cassandra grimaced at herself before turning to her new superior.

"I was just talking to Cathy about the job, you know how it goes, with the coworkers and whatnot…" Cassandra muttered. She knew it would have no affect, and indeed Alexia's face was as hard as cold as it ever had been. Alfred lurked behind her, glaring at the girl who had insulted his Alexia.

"I just recieved the news from your Uncle about this news." Alexia said. "You are now obligated to follow me on any and all pursuits that I may choose."

"As well as any of mine!" Alfred piped in. Alexia glanced at him, indifferent.

"As well as any of Alfred's, providing it does not clash with your services for me."

"That's ridiculous!" Catherine stepped in to defend her youngersister, who was looking more and more disheartened by the minute. Alfred glared her down.

"You have no power over what Alexia does," he said angrily. Alexia ignored them both.

"Also, I expect you to clean up your appearance and be presentable," she said, inspecting the undone sneakers, baggy cargoes, and tight neon - pink t-shirt that read "Make Love, Not Wara" that the Spencer girl was wearing. Cassandra was glowering at the scientist as if she didn't like any of the words coming out of her mouth.

"That's ridiculous," she muttered. "When Uncle Oswell hears about this slave driving…"

"He assigned you to this position." Alexia's voice was like a

whipcrack "I think it would be unwise for you to disregard the authority I currently have you under, girl. Now, I have some other things with which to inform you. Follow me."

Cassandra sulked after Alexia, leaving Catherine alone, feeling a great degree of pity for her younger sister.


End file.
